A Place in the Heavens: Book One
by Lil-read-writing-hood
Summary: Hayden lived a mortal life for 23 years. Now, seemingly dead and bearing endless scars, she finds herself in Middle-Earth with a second chance at life. When she is asked to accompany dwarves on a quest, will she take the chance or remain uninvolved? Will her past be her downfall or the key to unlocking her future? Her fear of love may just become her greatest salvation. FilixOC
1. The Hobbit and The Girl

Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing well on this fine day and have all eaten your second breakfast's already. This is my first fan fiction, so I thought I'd talk a bit about how I write.

I enjoy writing. It helps me release stress and work out things going on in my own mind. Because of this, however, I usually write _very_ much and seemingly _very_ sporadically (sorry in advance!). Between working and going to school and just participating in all things that come with life, I often push writing to the back of my priority list. I should do the opposite, as it really gives me the freedom and therapy that I find I often need, but right now this isn't the case.

I rated this story M for later chapters. There is some violence including fight scenes, verbal and physical abuse, and possible sexual instances.

This story is going to be very detailed and very integrated. I want you to read each chapter and feel as if you're there with the characters experiencing everything. The romance and fluff will be present, but I'm going to take my time integrating it and letting it build up as it would (in most cases) in real life. Fili is one of my favorite characters in The Hobbit movies (and the books, though he's not as prevalent) and I wish Jackson had incorporated he and Kili's bond much more. But, alas, then I probably wouldn't have the need to write such stories with my imagination wandering and whatnot.

SO - if you want a fast-pace story and don't want to read 10,000 words per chapter, this is probably not the book for you. AND - if you don't like violence and adult situations and want a story with much more rapid fluff, please look elsewhere. (I can't help but think of the Series of Unfortunate Events movie where it starts off with happy elves and quickly takes a turn).

Anywho, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. If you have any suggestions, comments, questions, or even disagreements, feel free to leave a review or send me a message. As this is my first fanfic, I think I'm going to need all the help I can get.

As always, I don't own any of Tolkien's works, characters, concepts, or other notions. (Though I wish I did!)

~Natalie  
_

She was dead. She knew she was, or at least, should have been. She felt nothing, saw nothing, and heard nothing - she must have been in a void. Why was she able to think; was she conscious? What had happened? If she was indeed deceased, was she a ghost? Could a ghost die? Was she stuck between life and death? Was she an embodiment or just a thought itself?

After a while of void-induced pondering, she heard a distant chirping. At first it alarmed her, for not even her own thoughts seemed to mirror sound. It was quiet, but present and unwavering. Had a bird died? If so, how was it making noise? Could she make noise? She tried, but nothing accompanied the chirping. The high pitched tones gradually grew much louder and clearer, their sharp resonance eliciting a wince from her small frame.

 _"What - did I just, did I just wince?!"_ She thought. _"Wait a minute, I just heard my own thoughts. Is that my voice?"_

She felt a light breeze skim across her cheek, brushing a strand of hair against her neck. _"Perhaps I'm just a floating head."_ Something smelled of oak and flowers, and she became aware of a subtle warmth radiating over her body. _"My body! I'm certainly not just a floating head, then. I wonder if that's the sun or if this whole thing is a trick of my mind."_

The bird kept up its chirping, now seemingly having found a partner to harmonize with. She focused on the sun's warmth and the beautiful melody before suddenly becoming aware of a soft coolness between her fingers. _"My fingers!"_ She desperately searched the ground beneath her, pulling up a handful of the soft stuff before realizing it was grass. She could smell it, freshly plucked from the earth with a grainy substance still clumping on the end of the blades. _"I've always loved grass."_ She thought with a smile, running over the dirt that had been exposed.

She definitely could think, and she most definitely could feel. Lying on the ground, she became aware of the other sounds of the forest or meadow in which she was. She couldn't be sure, but either way she knew she was in the wilderness. She heard birds flapping about amidst the chirping that had awoken her, deer walking nimbly between the trees and breaking tiny sticks on the ground, squirrels scurrying between rocks and climbing up bark.

As if on queue, her eyes blinked open through sunlight to a bright blue sky sprinkled with clouds just as a fluffy red bird flapped overhead. Watching the clouds take shape, she let her mind become lost in the tranquil peace before slowly sitting up, only to become slightly dizzy at the action. After a few deep breaths, she felt the spinning subside and decided to lie back down.

"Where am I?" She asked aloud, not recognizing her voice at first. It sounded so calm and airy, yet foreign in some way. She was indeed amidst a forest, but in a small clearing of grass. The sun was still shining overhead, and it seemed to be late morning. The air smelled so clean and lively, as if life hung on the very edge of it. Every crisp breath she took in was met with an equally calming exhale. She let a smile find its way onto her face as she watched the various animals on the edge of the clearing move about and carry on with the start of the day.

She had come to the conclusion that she was not dead. Perhaps she had been sleeping, or perhaps she had been knocked out. She noticed a stiffness in her arms as she went to sit up again, wondering if this was due to immobility for god knows however long or to some sort of injury. The dull ache reminded her of bruising, but she couldn't recall being attacked. While she had been thinking, she had failed to realize she was no longer alone. A twig snapped violently behind her, and she whipped her head around.

"Hello?" She called, only to be met with the buzzing of bees on nearby flowers. She jumped as another twig snapped, and leapt to her feet only to realize her legs weren't holding her weight, and fell forward. Catching herself, she turned onto her backside to sit and face where the sound had originated from. She looked down at her legs, realizing she had heavily padded boots on, and wondered why such attire would be needed in evidently perfect spring weather. They were black and almost knee high, full of fluff that packed the heat in.

"Miss! Miss, are you alright?" A short, ever-so pudgy man came running out of the tree line towards her, curls and pack bouncing behind him. She crouched up in fear, shaking her head with wide eyes at the man. He was barefoot, she noticed, and had enormous hairy feet.

"P...Please don't hurt me," she croaked out, attempting to scoot away towards the forest. Though he didn't look particularly dangerous, she had no idea who he was or who in their right mind would go walking about without shoes in a forest. He had neatly pressed trousers that cinched at his knees, a light green tunic with gold threading around the collar, and a dainty looking brown coat with polished silver buttons. Perhaps he had lost his shoes? Surely no one would dress that nicely and not put on shoes.

"I...What? I wouldn't dream of hurting you; I only wanted to help. You took a terrible fall and I'm afraid my floundering may have frightened you. You see, my bag," he gestured to his leather pack now hanging on one shoulder, "had gotten caught on a branch as I noticed someone here in the clearing. It took me a moment to free it." He took a tentative step forward, holding his hands up as if to surrender. _"I might need to surrender,"_ he thought. She was giving him a threatening, though scared, scowl.

 _"Chatting never hurt anyone,"_ he mused to himself before continuing. "I was surprised to see someone here; this is where I come to read every once in a while. When I have nothing to do at home and fancy taking a spontaneous walking holiday, that is." He beamed, pulling his brows together in a slow reflection. "Although, it's been a long time - quite a long time - since I've ventured out of Hobbiton."

"Hob...Hobbiton?" She questioned, not taking her eyes off the strange, barefoot man.

"Yes, Hobbiton. You know, in the Shire." He answered, half in a statement, half in question. After no response, he continued. "You're not from around here, are you?" His eyes flickered to her strange boots, then back up to her.

"I'm not sure," she answered, relaxing a bit. The man didn't seem too bad, though she refused to let her guard down. "Where are your shoes?"

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment and unsure as to what she was referring before letting out a soft chuckle and looking at his feet.

"I'm a hobbit, Miss. We don't wear shoes." How could this woman not know that? Of course, she was donning some rather peculiar shoes herself, so he thought it plausible she either had never seen a hobbit before or took heavy podiatry precautions.

"A hobbit? You mean you're a...a small person? Like a midget?" She retorted in hushed tones, as if someone would hear her inquiry and come running out of the trees to scold her.

"Well, short is a relative term, Miss. I'm about the average size for a hobbit, though some are shorter and some are taller. I do believe my great, great, great, great uncle - or was it great, great, great uncle - was incredibly tall. I recall hearing tales of him riding a full sized horse instead of a pony!" He finished with a serious nod and brows raised, as if his bit of lineage was going to impress the woman.

When her face remained scrunched up in confusion, he added, "But yes, I suppose you could consider me short. I don't believe you should go around calling us midgets, though, it doesn't hold a very polite connotation. Though I take no offense whatsoever." He finished with a smile, now having taken a few steps towards the girl without her backing away from him.

"I do believe I've gone insane." She said, looking down into her lap with a very lost expression. "First I'm in a void, then I'm a floating head, and now I'm talking to a barefoot man - a hobbit. A real hobbit. What mother would think of this - she'd have a hay day!"

He looked at her for a moment, worry spreading across his face. Though she did not appear insane, she certainly sounded like it. With her appearance along with her sudden outburst and overall lack of knowledge considering the world, he became eager to help her.

Crouching down as if to approach a stray dog, he reached out a hand towards the girl, who looked back at him with bewilderment. "I'm Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, that is," he said with a smile, before shaking his fingers lightly in emphasis and adding, "What is your name?"

She looked at his hand warily, considering her options. He most likely held more answers about what she was doing here, where she had come from, and where she needed to go. After a pause, she nodded her head slowly and reached out to meet his palm.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know my name. I don't know where I am, where I've come from, or how I even ended up here. You've mentioned we're in the Share and I guess close to Hobbiton, but I have no idea where those places are. I feel quite lost, if I'm being honest."

Bilbo let go of her hand, resting his arm on his knee to listen to the girl sitting before him. _"This is not good, not good at 'toll."_ He thought, trying not to let his concern show.

"That is most unfortunate, Miss. I'm sure it will come back to you eventually. I'm not sure where you've come from but you are in the Shire, not the Share, and Hobbiton is a village inside of it. Both sit inside an area called Eriador, which is one of the many parts that make up Middle-Earth. To be specific, we are currently in the Old Forest, a few miles from the Brandywine Bridge. I'm afraid I have no clue as to how you ended up here, but I can certainly offer you a place to go."

She looked around the forest in search of an escape route. She was not going anywhere with anyone, certainly not a man, no matter how nice he had been. She knew she should be leery of men, though she didn't exactly remember why. The Shire and Hobbiton were completely foreign words to her, but she knew Middle-Earth. Though her mother and father had prevented her from reading the books and seeing the films based off of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, she had heard of the land before from classmates. She knew that hobbits, elves, men, and a few other races resided here. Her parents believed that the stories were full of darkness and atrocities that would do her no good in developing as a contributing, level-headed member of society. They claimed that it was stories like those that had helped corrupt the world and generations to come. After she had started attending public school, she saw the corruption they were speaking of. She had a hard time making friends, not just because of her upbringing, but because none of the other children were as mindful about the world and their place in it as she was.

As she had grown up, she learned very fast that her family was different - extremely different. They preferred to live off the land without electricity, cars, microwaves, and other various types of modernization yet had a change of heart once she had become old enough to attend school. They still frequented an 'uncivilized' way of life to the best of their ability, but took trips to the countryside or mountains to maintain their moral compasses and sense of purpose. She loved her life, no matter how many people chastised her or rejected her entirely for it. She took what her parents said as seriously as she could, trying to live her life and guide her soul by their teachings.

She loved her parents, though sometimes she truly did not understand the reasoning behind their actions or rules, their ban on J.R.R. Tolkien being one of them. She was allowed to read things such as The Odyssey, King Lear, Homer, or even the Poetic Edda - a history of Old Norse cultures and peoples - but never The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings. She never understood why, but she always tried to the best of her ability to steer clear of anything relating to the franchise. Her parents must have had a reason, so she had a reason to obey.

But how in the world did she end up here? Was it a real place all along, full of the darkness and horror they had mentioned and that is why they did not want her reading the tales? Or was she somehow in heaven, or a state in between in which Middle-Earth was the land where souls resided? She would've asked her parents, and in fact right now was dying to, but knew she'd never get the chance. They had died, though she couldn't remember how at the moment. If this was an afterlife, perhaps they were here?

"Wait. I remembered! My...they're...". She stammered. "My parents!" She shrieked out, clasping her hands over her mouth and staring at the hobbit in awe.

"Yes, your parents? Are they near by? Did you lose them here?" He asked, looking around as if she had possibly seen them and was voicing her sighting.

"No..." she said, trailing off and lowering her hands, her eyes glued to them. She was shaking ever so slightly, and she wondered briefly if it was due to the sudden memory or to lack of food. "I'm afraid they died a few years ago."

Bilbo looked at her puzzled for a moment before setting a remorseful hand on her shoulder, startling her. She relaxed a bit as she looked into his concerned eyes; he wasn't going to hurt her. Her parents would have much rather wanted her in company and alive - or whatever this was - than dead and alone. After a moment, she nodded to the hobbit with a slight smile.

"You mentioned you had somewhere I could go - where exactly did you mean?"

He smiled at her, before standing up swiftly and offering her a hand. "My home, Miss. It is just me, and I have plenty of room to spare. Not to mention I do make a wonderful Took's pie if I do say so myself. I'll wager you're quite hungry, I know I am."

She took his hand but made no movement to get up. "Last time I tried to stand, my legs gave out beneath me. I'm not so sure I can..." She said, letting a hand brace herself against the ground.

"Well, if you fall I'm right here to catch you. No need to worry." He said, holding out his other hand to her.

She moved to a crouch, feeling good about the movement so far, and slowly stood while bracing herself with the help of Bilbo's hands. After standing for a moment without collapsing, she reveled in the feeling of stretching out her limbs. Her knees had begun to ache, and she was reminded time and time again of the bruising feeling she had on her arms and back.

"Thank you," she murmured while quickly dropping his hands, before looking down at him with the sudden realization that she was taller than he by about a hand and a half. She had never been taller than anyone before, except for children. _"Oh, no. Am I a hobbit?"_ She thought, dreading the possibility that her own feet were just as big and hairy. He seemed to notice as well, his brow rising in surprise as she stood before settling back down.

She awkwardly looked around before asking, "Do you live in Hobbiton?"

"Yes, I do. It's just down the hill a bit, over the Brandywine Bridge, and through the winding hills. My home sits atop one of them - it holds quite the view if I do say so myself." He said, puffing his chest out a bit in pride. "I don't expect it will take us more than a few hours if we make haste, though if you aren't feeling sure on your feet we can take a much slower pace."

"Right now I believe I'm fine, but if that changes I will let you know." She replied, smiling at him briefly before wiping her pants off of any residual dirt or grass that had decided to come along after her departure from the ground.

"Excellent, this way My Lady," he said, and gestured for her to walk back towards the way he had come, "just down this hill and to the left."

Once they had found the road, they began walking in silence, save for the occasional, 'watch out,' 'what a lovely bird,' or 'excuse me, I need to relieve myself' that came from Bilbo. She just nodded or took heed of the road as best she could. He hadn't asked any personal questions, though she was sure that was due to the fact she couldn't remember anything at the moment. She was just as glad, for he was still a stranger as pleasant as he was, and she wasn't up for small talk. It may have been rude of her, but she knew she would have plenty of time to ask about his life once they had gotten to his home. For now, she was content on enjoying the sights and sounds of Middle-Earth.

The forest was truly magical, she thought. Everything was so much more greener, vibrant, and pure than anything she had seen in nature back home. The sounds were richer; everything she touched seemed to radiate with life. Every sight took her breath away, and though she did not fancy the idea of staying in the forest by herself at the moment, she yearned to run out into its welcoming embrace. She knew she had become accustomed to living with nature with her parents, but she had an urgent feeling inside that told her it had become a safe haven for her in more recent times.

They crossed the Brandywine Bridge and she smiled outwardly at the sound of running water. She loved that sound, she knew, but she failed to place a memory of it. Perhaps she had hit her head and lost her memory; that happened to people all the time. She was just suffering from short-term memory loss, surely. She remembered her parents and abstract things like the first time she wrote with a ball-point pen or the smell of a favorite flower, gardenia, but her name was still running around amuck in her head somewhere. She sighed, wanting desperately to remember so much more but understanding that she probably would in time. Patience was a virtue and she would surely wait. She had no other choice.

"Is everything alright?" Bilbo asked. They had been walking for a few hours now and were just about to enter Hobbiton when she sighed heavily next to him.

"Yes," she replied after a pause, "I just wish I could remember my name. I know I will - I hope I will. It's just terribly frustrating." She let out another huff before running a hand over the back of her head, fingers tracing over the braid that sat there. Suddenly, as if she remembered something, she took the braid of hair and looked quizzically at it, as if she had never seen it before.

"I'm sure it will. You remembered your parents, didn't you? That's something." He answered, giving her a cheerful smile before noticing her strange behavior. "Is there something wrong with your hair?"

She dropped the hair like a hot coal. "No!" She let out simultaneously, biting her lip and giving the hobbit a toothy grin. "It's just, well, it's going to sound completely insane coming out of my mouth, but I didn't know what color my hair was until I looked at it just now. I'm afraid I can't even recall my own reflection or what I look like. It's the strangest sensation, knowing you don't know something you should, and then learning it all over again."

Bilbo began laughing, putting his hands up in reassurance. "I'm not laughing at you in ill will, I assure you. And I believe I understand what you mean, but you make the strangest faces." He managed between chuckles before settling down again with a smile.

She smiled back at him, nodding her head and lightly rolling her eyes. "Yes, yes, my face is very funny. But, what does it look like?" She asked, stopping in the path and crossing her arms.

The hobbit blushed slightly before taking a few steps back towards the girl. "Well, as you have figured out, you have auburn hair. And I must say it is in a beautiful shade; fiery yet not blindingly so, much more subtle. I don't know if you have curly hair like mine," he said while looking up at a lock of hair that had strayed on his forehead, "but the braid you're wearing suits you well. I also see plenty of freckles on your face, particularly your nose and cheeks." He added, blushing slightly. "And you have one of the most remarkable pair of eyes I've seen in quite a while."

"My father had red hair as well," she added, "my mother's was jet black. What color are my eyes? I recall both my parents having brown."

"Really? Well, you must have some other color in your family somewhere because your eyes are certainly not brown." He said, looking at her intently and then quickly breaking eye contact.

"Yes, well what color is 'certainly not brown'?" She asked, laughing lightly and taking steps forward.

He followed suit and they were walking down the path again. "They're green? No, grey. I can't seem to place the color exactly. They look deeply green at first, but they're more grey in the middle." He finished, his eyes squinting up at her and his finger swirling around as if to paint a picture in the air of how the grey filtered out from green.

"Interesting." She said, a look of deep thought on her face. Were all hobbits as attentive to detail as he was?

"Quite." He said in response, silence falling over them once again.

After a few moments, the path began to twist and turn, breaking off into various other directions. The hills soon surrounded them and began showing signs of a more populated area. She noticed other hobbits in the distance, busy about their chores. Most of them looked like Bilbo, though quite a few of them were much more heavyset than he. _"They all look so cheerful."_ She pondered with a smile. All of them, however, reflected his sense of style and lack of shoes. _"I guess he wasn't joking when he said hobbits didn't wear shoes."_

Bilbo saw her gawking at his neighbors, and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Miss, don't stare for too long. You'll probably draw enough attention yourself as it is."

She looked down at him apologetically, focusing again on the path. It wound around gates and gardens, each one resembling one another. She realized that the steps leading into the hills were in fact front porches, and that the round frames of wood lain in the grass were in fact front doors. These were homes. Unusual, but brilliant all the same.

Two children ran out in the path in front of Bilbo, smiling up at him before looking back at the woman behind him with wide-eyed stares. The boy was much smaller than the girl with deep brown hair and blue eyes, she with a white blonde and the same eyes that must have run in the family. She smiled at them, waving a few fingers, and they returned the favor before running off and jumping over a small farm plot fence. An older woman ran out of the house opposite, a broom in hand over her head, intent on following the two. She mumbled a greeting to Bilbo before running off quite hastily, muttering about children and their unnecessary need to adventure.

After some time, Bilbo stopped and looked up at the girl who had been following him like a duckling. He put a hand on her back, and pointed up a hill to a home with a green door.

"That, my new friend, is home." He said, a smile on his face that reached his eyes.

She looked for a moment before smiling back to him and nodding. "It looks wonderful! I can't wait to see inside." She really couldn't. Passing by each house had only sprung her curiosity more. She could only imagine how different their customs were but was even more eager to see how decorating and overall lifestyles differed as well.

They marched up the hill, reaching the small gate that led to a series of steps. Bilbo held it open for her, and she slipped inside, waiting for the hobbit to walk up the steps and unlock his door. He pulled his pack off and rummaged inside, pulling various books and packages of food out.

"Oh, drat. Where did I put that confounding key?" He said, more so to himself than to anyone else.

She watched in silence with an amused look on her face, taking in the garden and bench that sat in pristine fashion. He felt around on his person, only to brighten up when realizing the key had been in his pocket all along. Swiftly he piled in the books and food back into his pack and swung it over his shoulder. Putting the key in the hole, he slowly turned it and the handle followed suit. He pushed gently with his hand, before gesturing to the girl to step inside.

"Welcome," he bellowed out, "to Bag End."


	2. The Pie and The Death

Being built into the side of a hill, she expected a claustrophobic cavern or some sort of burrow. Instead, she decided Bilbo's home was a dream. It was absolutely stunning. Surrounded in rich, polished woods and scattered with fine rugs, furniture, and a collection of generations' lives, the hobbit hole reeked of luxury.

She stepped inside the green door, wiping her boots absentmindedly before crossing the threshold. The first thing she noticed was the contrast from outside; she had been surrounded by green, luscious plants only to step inside and be met with a rainbow of woods, tile, and stone. She looked up at the ceiling, the exposed beams curving and mirroring the door from which she entered through and found an iron chandelier hanging above. For as small as hobbits were, their homes were fairly spacious; she could easily see larger races fitting through the house. A quaint coat rack of redwood sat to her right, full of jackets and shawls with cabinets below, most likely for shoes or other various outdoor items. Bilbo followed, closing the door behind him while muttering about seeing to have the door re-painted. Scurrying off towards the left, he deposited his pack near a sun-lit table piled to the brim with papers, books, and boxes. A handful of chairs and loveseat were placed around the room while a particularly worn one sat near the massive fireplace. Two pictures hung on the wall above, each capturing a hobbit. She assumed they were relatives of Bilbo's.

"I'll unpack my books in the study later." He said with one hand in his jacket pocket and the other pointed, looking around at all the things lying around waiting to be put away. "Right now, I'd like to welcome you to my hobbit hole and take you on a tour!" He beamed out, walking hastily over towards the girl.

"A hobbit hole? This is definitely not what I expected a hole to look like." She said, looking around as the hobbit walked up next to her.

"Yes, I suppose you may have expected a nasty, dirty, or wet dwelling by the assumption of it. But hobbit holes are far from that. They are filled with good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home you could ever imagine." He responded with a warm smile, extending an elbow out for her to grab.

She took it eagerly, chomping at the bit to see what else his home had to offer. At first glance, it was a tad bit messy with belongings lying around in unfinished piles, yet she was impressed at the grandeur of it all. Nature could be found in every detail - from carvings in the wood to the domed ceilings that reminded her of tree canopies and cathedrals. It seemed that love radiated from every grain of wood, every twisting hall, every prized possession. Not only was his home built with pride, but filled with it as well.

It was much larger than she had expected. After Bilbo had walked her through the entrance, he had grabbed an oil lamp from a small side table and they had continued straight into the Oak Hall which appeared to be an intersection of sorts. Straight forward lay the smoking room, to which he opened the door to and gestured as to where he sat on nights where he wanted his pipe but did not want to sit outside. It was relatively plain with three burgundy armchairs sitting in different corners of the room and a cabinet hutch most likely filled with pipes and tobacco; a fireplace sat on the back wall. The importance of this room, he mentioned, was that it had been used for a 'meeting room' by his father and grandfather.

"This is where my father and grandfather had many a conversation. I was not old enough to partake in such indulgences and my mother hardly ever had the patience to listen to them once they got into it," he said with a slight shake of the head, "but that does not matter now. Moving along, let's go here to the right."

He briefly took her right and into a spare room which held a dusty looking chair, some crates that looked as though they had been untouched for a hundred years, and a handful of teetering book towers that would fall over if one got too close.

They had returned to the Oak Hall and continued down the winding hallway, which he informed her was the East Hall. She ran her fingers along the wall, seamless with the ceiling and floor save for the break in the tiling from wood. She was smitten with the carpentry that had gone into building such a place, beams emerging from the panels to make room for the smooth off white wall. Somehow it reminded her of how the Vikings used to shape wood for their boats and knew it to be a painstaking, patient process.

The hall opened up into the atrium, which again appeared to be a crossroads. He took her right and towards the pantry, which needed no introduction as it was beaming with food. Sitting between round accordion doors that looked as though they had never been shut, it was a sight to behold; vegetables and cheeses and baked goods were perched in baskets that lined the walls while a large barrel of ale sat in the middle, mugs at the ready on a table behind. He showed her to the wine cellar at the back left of the pantry and then to the cold storage on the right where he kept his meats and various vegetables, each a spacious stone-lined room. On the west side of the pantry was another storage room, filled with extra chairs and linens and peculiar cooking utensils that only got brought out in use with specific recipes or for special occasions. Here also lay sacks of flour and wheat ready to be filtered and contained.

"I'm really quite fond of these." He said, opening a crate of delicate looking plates the color of barley and an indigo night sky. "This is my mother's West Farthing pottery." He beamed, holding out a plate for her to inspect.

"This is beautiful! Did she make them?" She asked, turning the plate gently over in her hands before handing it back to Bilbo.

"No, I don't believe she did. Actually, I'm not quit sure how she came to own it. The set is over a hundred years old - would you believe it?!" He said with a huff of disbelief. "All I know is she loved serving meals on these dishes; I got them per her instructions after her and my father's deaths." He said, packing the plate back in with the others and picking up the oil lamp to lead out of the room.

"Well that makes them a special thing, indeed." She said, feeling remorse for the hobbit's loss though she expected it was nothing that particularly bothered him. At least, not to her knowledge.

"That it does, Miss. This way, I'll show you the dining room and kitchen next."

They walked out of the pantry and straight across the atrium to the dining room. He took her briefly through the dining room, pointing out various pictures on the wall and little treasures from history on shelves of hutches. It was a large enough room, she mused, for a handful of people to dine comfortably. A large dinner party, however, would have to split up or use an additional table in the adjoining hall. She supposed that didn't happen too often as hobbits were small creatures. Their dinner parties may have been large but didn't require ballrooms.

The kitchen sat off to the left of the dining room and held a door to the south that led back out into the East Hall. There were so many twists and turns, she felt at this point she would need a map until she noticed that further in, the kitchen was connected to the front parlor where Bilbo had dropped his pack earlier. They had come almost full circle inside this circular home.

"Oh, and that is the entrance!" She exclaimed, more so to herself than Bilbo.

"Yes. So it is..." He replied, a brow raised.

"I'm just trying to keep my head about me. I thought I was getting lost but now I think I can manage around." She said with a smile.

"Oh, yes. Well we're not done. I have yet to show you the bedrooms, bathroom, and back entrance." Bilbo said, continuing deeper in the kitchen. Her heart dropped a little, now feeling even more turned around than at the beginning.

He resumed his tour by showing her where he kept most of his cooking spices and explaining how the fireplace had once been a pit before his mother insisted on making it proper. He assumed it was due to the fact that he could have easily tripped inside it as a small child, but also insinuated that his mother loved fine things more than most hobbits and wanted her home to reflect that in every way possible.

The kitchen really was lovely. There was tiled stone lain on the ceiling where the exposed beams had been in every other room, save for the cellars. It had a circular window with wooden half moon shades that filtered light in to be centered on the table, a single teapot sitting in the middle of it. Plants hung from the corners and ceiling, adding the perfect touch of greenery to the space. Utensils and tools were strewn about in a casual fashion and on shelves near books and teacups and doilies were bottles of various wines, oils, and who knows what else; a sink laid near the northern wall full of washed dishes.

From here they meandered back through the dining room and into the atrium to continue onward towards the study on the left. It was graced with a window similar to the one found in the kitchen and had a small but sturdy desk standing in the corner with various books and papers. She traced a finger over the quill, mentally admiring the fact that in Middle-Earth they still wrote with a pen and ink instead of with the modern tools she was accustomed to. The rest of the study was filled, or rather overflowing, with books. The whole room seemed to be impregnated with literature.

"I could stay in here for a lifetime." She breathed out, tracing her hands over the broken spines. She assumed they had been cracked open and read so many times they had their own versions of smile lines, wrinkles that had been so very present on Miss Liuellans face.

" _Miss Liuellan! I remembered her!"_ She looked around to see Bilbo beaming back at her, as if her confession told him much more about their mutual respect for books than she would have expected. She noticed his expression change once she stared back, open mouthed and bursting with excitement.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, taking a step forward.

"Yes, it's just, I remembered someone." She said, tracing her hands over the books once more as if to bring the memory back to linger a moment longer. "She was my neighbor, when I lived with my parents, that is. When they died, she adopted me and took me under her wing. These books - their broken and cracked spines - they reminded me of the smile lines and wrinkles she had on her face. She used to read to me once a week on Sundays after dinner. At first it was strange because no one really reads to another person unless they're a child. But I looked forward to it; her voice was like smooth butter wrapped in sweet, sticky sugar. She had this way of losing her place," She continued, choking out a laugh at the memory, "and sometimes she'd have to start reading the page all over again. She died when I was a Senior in high school. Near the end, I was the one reading to her." She finished, fighting the urge to fall to the floor in a pool of wet sorrow.

"I'm so terribly sorry. She seems like a wonderful woman and no doubt helped to raise a good one." He said, walking over to the girl and offering her his handkerchief. She took it with a polite nod and blotted some of the fallen tears from her cheeks before handing it back to him.

"I do have to ask," he started, taking the handkerchief back and folding it in his pocket, "what is a high school in a Senior?"

She barked out a dumbfounded laugh. How had she missed that? In her rush of memories she had been so consumed by the loss of her friend that she had forgotten to hide just how different she really was. She knew she'd have to have this talk with Bilbo, but figured it would be much easier if she remembered where she came from and what she was doing in Middle-Earth. Apparently that talk would begin here.

"It's the other way around, actually. A high school is a school where older children attend and graduate from when they've learned everything that is required. A Senior is the fourth and oldest class of young adults, the others are Freshman, Sophomore, and Junior. And before you ask," she said putting up both hands, "it is completely normal where I'm from. I know you don't have anything resembling a school system like that here, but that doesn't matter right now."

He looked at her flabbergasted and at a loss for words. He pondered for a moment, briefly believing she was insane, before nodding his head and trying to remember all she had said.

"I see. And, this is normal, where you are from. Where is that, exactly?" He answered, his brows raised in anticipation of an outlandish answer. Her next words would determine whether or not he felt she was mentally incapacitated and was a lost cause or if she was indeed suffering from memory loss and in need of comfort.

"Yes. And, well, I'm not exactly sure. All I know is I woke up here, in Middle-Earth this morning, and I don't have much memory of where I was before that. I know I had parents and attended school and that the place I come from is _very_ different. But I don't know where I'm from. I wanted to tell you all of this when I had remembered more of who I am and where I came from. As I remember more, I'm sure things will piece together and I can explain it all a little better. For now, just know that I come from somewhere very, very, extremely far away." She finished, looking out the window into the hills gleaming with afternoon sun.

Her answer neither confirmed nor denied his suspicions. He would just have to hope she was sane and see what would come of their acquaintance. He would be beside himself if she were truly mad and he had handed her off to someone much more fitting to deal with her only to find out she had been telling the truth the whole time. Stranger things had happened in Middle-Earth, surely. He hadn't known of them personally or been involved, but he had read about them. Making a mental note to write some of this down later, just in case he could write his own novel about it, he twitched his nose.

He stared at her for a few minutes, scenarios and questions running rampant around in his head. She glanced between him and the window, unsure as to where they stood after her confession. She was just about to ask if he was angry with her for not telling him everything she remembered when he spoke up.

"Well, this is a bit strange and a bit more than I can swallow at the moment. It's going to take me some time to process what you've told me but I also agree some more information when remembered will be quite welcome and useful. Until then, shall we continue our tour?"

She sighed in relief, and nodded quickly. "Yes, please. You're house is fascinating so far."

He responded with a slight chuckle. There was a door to the west side they had not entered yet, and she went to open it but was met with the sound of Bilbo's scurrying feet as he jogged over to stop her.

"This would be my room." He blanched, after which he briefly opened and shut the door with a polite nod. Obviously he was private about his quarters, she mused. " _What have you got under your bed, dear hobbit?"_ She thought with a smile.

They returned once again to the hallway, to which she was informed was the West Hall. Just to the left sat a door that opened up to a narrow stone hallway, light pouring in from a door at the end nearly fifty meters away; this was the back entrance and was kept under lock and key. Continuing towards the back room and guest room, they passed the storage room that connected to the pantry. " _I really need a map."_ She thought, as the hobbit looked at her with a hint of frustration that she did not know exactly where she was and was standing idly trying to figure it out. She was paying attention, she truly was, but it seemed the various turns and all the history being pitched at her had thrown her off course.

The back room reminded her of a shop used for carpentry, mechanics, or the like. It held a massive oak table with an array of tools and weapons. In the corner sat two barrels, the contents unknown to her. A door at the back of the room led back to the wine cellar, where she could deduce led to the pantry. She was getting the hang of things now.

"What do you use this room for, Bilbo?" She asked, coming out of the little hall that led back to the wine cellar and pantry.

"Hobbies and projects, mostly. If I have something that needs great mending I usually seek another's help, someone with more talent and experience. But, if it's something that can be made with time and patience, I try to do it myself." He answered, picking up a piece of carved wood from a pile of burlap material. "This was going to be a new handle for my tea kettle perch. I broke mine last summer and have been struggling ever since without it. I've burnt myself very badly, very foolishly, twice while trying to remove the kettle from the fire."

"That sounds horrible!" She said, discomfort laced in her tone. "If you'd like, I can help you fix it. I'm a great whittler."

"You are?" He asked, surprised that the girl had made such a personal statement but also at the fact that a woman admitted to being interested in whittling. This was something a female hobbit would almost never do. _"Perhaps she is part dwarven."_ He mused quietly. Dwarves enjoyed making beautiful things, preferably with more decadent materials.

As if slowly realizing what she had just said, her hands raised to her mouth in a quick flash. "I remembered something again! I'm not sure how I remembered that, but I did! I can remember things I made for my parents, carvings and objects. I used to love working with wood. I loved the feel of it in my hands and how I could make something beautiful out of something that was already so." She said, her eyes glazed with tears of happiness.

"Perhaps it has to do with the object. You remembered your friend with the books and now the whittling with the, well, wood." He offered, handing her the piece of wood. There was a small, curved knife nearby that she picked up simultaneously and began carving a small design on the end of the wooden cylinder. It wasn't much, just a few trails of vines with adorning leaves and flowers. It didn't take her long either, her fingers made quick work. She made to finish, knowing that if she didn't stop now she would stay in this room carving until her fingers fell off or she carved the entire hobbit hole, whichever came first. Handing over the wooden piece and setting the knife down, she smiled at Bilbo with a hint of anticipation.

"That is most impressive. This, this is beautiful! I'll have to take you up on that offer, then. Perhaps you can fix my kettle perch and cover it in that design, I quite like it." He replied, setting down the piece of wood and gesturing towards the door once more before picking up the oil lamp.

They walked out and straight until they found the guest bedroom, passing the bathroom on the way. It was larger than she had expected, everything fashioned out of stone. The toilet, sink, and washtub all seemed to have some sort of plumbing connected to them, but she wasn't sure how. She made a mental note to ask Bilbo later.

As they opened the guest room door, Bilbo explained that this had once been his mother's room when she lived with him after his father's death. He had since converted it to a guest room, removing most of her personal belongings, but it still carried her essence. A large four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room with fluffy pink blankets atop. A small circular window was built in the southern wall towards the road, various trunks and small dressers underneath it. A bookshelf sat opposite near the door, full from floor to ceiling with selections showing much wear. There were rugs strewn out on each side of the bed in a deep red, almost blending into the tile floor.

"This room is beautiful!" She exclaimed, taking in the pictures of hobbits and their respectful homes that were hung on the walls. An aged mirror with edges that curved outwards hung over the nightstand.

"Yes, it is. My mother loved it as well." He replied, a reflection of happier times on his face. "Well, now you have safely traversed and toured Bag End. I'm feeling a bit parched, how about yourself?" He asked as he walked back out into the hall.

"I don't know if I'm so hungry that the feeling has passed, or if I'm content, but I do feel rather drained of energy." She said, looking down and noticing her hands had begun to shake slightly. It was true, she was famished upon entering the home but now, after what seemed like hours, she had not noticed the feeling return. She probably needed food, but then again, she probably needed a lot of things.

"In any case, I'm going to start on supper. I thought I'd make the famous Took's pie - the one I mentioned earlier." He said, smiling at her with a slight puff of the chest before walking off towards the kitchen.

A smile had found its way onto her face at his determination and eagerness. She scrambled after him, hoping she wouldn't take a wrong turn.

* * *

She looked lovingly at the pie that sat beyond her in the kitchen, crisp and delicate crust with an aroma of pure bliss. Bilbo had insisted that the pies sit for a moment to cool off and she had regretted every minute that had passed since he set the dishes on the counter. The hobbit hole was drenched with the aura of homegrown herbs, sweet vegetables, and Took intuition. And the wait was killing her.

Bilbo hadn't let her help in the cooking, whether or not this was a pet peeve of his or just his humble charm, she wasn't sure. But she wanted to help, she felt horrible just sitting around while someone else did all the work. It was as if something inside her soul was telling her to get up off her butt or expect the worst. Something was screaming at her inside, urging her that laziness would get her killed. She didn't know why, and it bothered her. What a strange sensation.

He hadn't even let her set the table, insisting it was a host's duty to both entertain and impress his guests. She followed him around, though, watching him fold his napkins and seek out specific forks and knives. The amount of pride he held not only in producing dinner but with his possessions and belongings warmed her heart. Though his love for material things was evident, it was not a love bred from greed or malice. Bilbo's love of things grew from his love of family and his love of tradition.

He had insisted that they eat in the dining room, complaining that he never had others over as it was and that he didn't get to use the room half as much as he would have liked. They each had a respectable glass of water, pumped from the well outside in the garden. Bilbo had set the table diligently, digging out some of his finest napkins and utensils that deserved to see some action after residing in a wooden box for god knows how long. Near each end of the table were two tall candlesticks, seemingly simple in design yet very polished. A very round blue bowl sat in the middle of the table with small yellow and white flowers blooming out of it, their leaves pouring over the edge like delicate moss. She lifted the edge of a leaf with the tip of her finger and stroked it with her thumb; the leaves felt like velvet. " _I've never seen flowers like these before. I wonder what they're called. I'll have to -"_

Before she could finish her trail of thought, Bilbo had brought their dishes out and onto the dining room table, still steaming. She inhaled and immediately smelled the chicken, the rosemary, the freshly picked peas, the gorgeously tender potatoes and she thought it was a wonder her saliva hadn't dried up in agonizing wait.

She sat there, taking in the sight and smell of the famous Took's pie without realizing she was being watched herself. She looked up at Bilbo, eyes wide with hunger, and let out a breathy "Thank you!" before looking back down to her pie. It sat there begging to be devoured.

Bilbo grabbed his napkin, tucking it in his collar and smoothing it down his chest before gesturing for her to eat. "Please, Miss. Eat! No need to stare at it. I promise it won't run away or eat itself." She looked up at him, slightly embarrassed at her timid behavior, before he continued. "But I just might if there's any left."

At this she smiled, and he returned the favor. Taking one of Bilbo's special forks and placing a napkin on her lap, she sliced through the crust, letting the steam signify the promise of delicacy to come. She scooped up a large portion, getting the chicken and vegetables and perfect crust all in one motion. Not even worrying about the temperature, she shoved the bite into her mouth, licking the fork as it came out of her mouth. Closing her eyes and chewing eagerly, she had never tasted anything better. Needless to say, she fell head over pie.

"This...is...so...just so damn...wonderful!" She burst out through bites, no longer considering manners or proper dinner behavior. She had been right in her earlier assumption - she was indeed hungry. She had definitely underestimated the hobbit's ability to cook. And something felt the need to remind her that it had been a long time since anyone had cooked for her.

Bilbo was slightly taken aback at her sudden outburst of profanity, but smiled all the same. It wasn't every day he got to share his meals with another person let alone prepare a tried and true family recipe. He liked cooking, he really did, but there was something that always felt off about eating a meal rich with tradition all by himself. It wasn't just the recipe that made the meal, it was the company and memories that surrounded it. And this, he decided, was a day he was going to remember for years to come.

They sat in relative silence, save for her occasional sigh or groan in happiness with her food. She finished just before Bilbo had, taking in every last bite until she could eat no more without licking the dish clean. The thought crossed her mind for a moment, but she let it pass with a shake of the head. As if to end the meal, she placed her napkin on the table and pushed the dish slightly forward and out of her tempting gaze.

"That was delicious, Bilbo. I don't know how I could thank you enough. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started smelling you cook in there." She gestured with her head towards the kitchen. "How did you learn to make that?"

He smiled back at her, untucking his napkin and placing his hands on his thighs as if to brace himself for her flattery. "Actually, I learned it from my mother, who learned it from her father the Old Took." He said, placing an emphasis on the resounding 'k' sound.

"The Old Took?" She asked, a brow raised.

"Yes. My grandfather Gerontius Took. He was a very old hobbit - he lived to be one hundred and thirty years old!" Bilbo said, his eyebrows dancing with every word. "I remember we used to have Took's pie exclusively on his famous midsummer-eve parties." He finished, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

"Midsummer-eve parties? That sounds like fun!" She asked, leaning on the table intent with curiosity.

"Yes, he held them every midsummer-eve, as you would have guessed. We'd have dancing and food and games and would spend the night enjoying one another's merry company. The children especially loved it, me being one of them, because we could run all over and not get into trouble. Well," He paused, blushing at a memory, "not too much trouble. Not as much trouble were our parents and other elders not so caught up in the night, that is. But the most memorable part happened near the end of the night, when he'd elicit the help of his wizard friend Gandalf to ignite some of the most glorious and whimsical fireworks you'd ever see in your life." He said, making gestures with his hands to imitate an explosion in the air.

"A wizard?!" She asked, sitting up straight and looking at the hobbit as if he'd gone mad.

"Yes, a wizard. Though I don't think he was much to be talked about." He said with a wave of the hand. "All party tricks and conjurings and whatnot. I don't think there are any true wizards left, to be quite honest."

"I see..." She said, taking in the fact that this world either held real magic or, just as in her own, the beautiful idea of it.

"I do wish he were still here. I'd give anything to help him host one of his parties again. Or just to hear his crackling laugh! You know, when I was quite young, he let me sneak a whiff off his pipe once or twice. My mother never found out; it was our secret." He finished in a hushed tone. "Anyway, one day I plan on having my own midsummer-eve party. Of course, if you're still around, I know you'll enjoy it. I'll even let you help me pick out the silverware." He said, smiling gently at the girl he knew held a good heart. He wanted to treat her to hobbit hospitality but also noticed the twinge of sadness in her eyes when he wouldn't let her help before dinner.

"I never knew my grandparents, or any family for that matter. But I do miss my parents and all of the crazy things they'd do - even though I can't exactly remember what. I understand how you feel, but I think carrying on those traditions is an important and vital aspect to life. Not only to yours, but to your future generations'." She finished with a kind smile. "Do all hobbits live as long as your grandfather, or at least, relatively close?"

"Close, yes, but none have ever lived as long as he and with such life still about them. Most of our race lives to be about one hundred years of age, but we start slowing down in our final years. He, however, took pride in the fact that at one hundred and thirty he could still meander around as if he was only sixty. If throwing a grand party wasn't an indication of that." He said, relaxing into his seat a bit more and letting his head rest on his hand that was propped on the table.

"My race lives to be about one hundred as well, though most of us don't get over ninety without serious complications." She commented.

"And what race would that be?" Bilbo asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going. She was short, very short, for the race of man and yet not as hairy or burly as most dwarves he knew. Even if she was a dwarf, he could in no manner imagine her out in the world all alone; dwarven women were so rare that there was a free standing notion that they were a myth. He knew she was not a hobbit, for she didn't even know what they were. He thought it quite rude to ask, even considering her current mental gap, so he hadn't.

"I'm a woman!" She said, a slight offended smirk on her face. "What else would I be?"

He cleared his throat before putting a hand up in the air as if to defend the words about to leave his mouth. "Well, it's just...you don't look like a woman."

Her eyes practically popped out of her head at this, and he immediately stuttered in realization of what he had just said, or rather, implied.

"No! No, it's not that I meant you don't _look_ like a woman, you just don't resemble a female of the race of man." He said quickly, putting his hands back on the edge of the table and leaning in over the middle, as if to ensure his words were being heard.

"You most certainly look female. Your figure gives that away." He said, glancing down at her torso and nodding with his head.

Not realizing just how comfortable he was becoming around this girl, he suddenly stared, open mouthed at her reaction. Though they had spent a day together, she was still a stranger. He had let himself become much too friendly with the girl, but it was all too easy. She was kind and held a pure heart.

She shifted as his words hit her, uncomfortable in the sudden change of mood. The nagging thought at the back of her mind telling her to run from this man returned. She logically knew she had no reason to fear him, but there was something engrained in her soul. Men should not be trusted, especially when they start getting too comfortable.

Looking up at him, she saw him lunging at her over the table, sending their dishes flying off the edge and the candles toppling over to consume the room in flames. He pinned her down under the chair, hands moving forcefully over her body. His hands became constraints with nails threatening to pierce through her skin. She looked into his eyes and recognized nothing. Colors of hatred and hunger blended together instead, his eyes glazed over with malicious intent. His smile was not his own, full of rotten teeth that flashed at her between twitching lips.

She stood up swiftly, grabbing her dish and practically running to the sink to deposit it before escaping through the front door. Breathing heavily, she looked around as if in preparation for an attack, but none came. Realizing she had simply imagined the whole thing, a wave of relief trickled over her. She sat down on the bench, looking out on the hobbit holes lit by candlelight underneath a cloudy night sky. A man walked by lighting the lamppost near Bilbo's home before continuing down the path, stopping briefly to give her a nod and light tip of the hat. At first she was apprehensive watching him approach but then mentally reprimanded herself at her assumptions.

Whatever that was back there, inside her mind, was all too real. Whether it was a memory or a foreshadowing, neither notion was comforting. She felt sick and confused. Bilbo was no demon being nor would he ever harm her in such a beastly way. If he had wanted to, wouldn't he already have done so? Was her vision based off of pure fear or was something much darker at play? Perhaps she held onto a fear she was unaware of. Maybe it lived deep down inside her, dwelling in the shadows until the opportune moment, waiting to reveal itself when she least expected it.

Either way, she felt horrible at her spontaneous departure. Had she picked up her dish or dropped it? Had she screamed? Did Bilbo even call after her? " _Oh Bilbo, I'm so sorry..."_ She thought, letting a tear drop into her lap before vigorously rubbing its trail away from her cheek. " _I don't truly know you, but I can't believe what I did. Who am I?"_

Bilbo was a kind soul. He valued his things, yes, but just as she had thought earlier he also valued people and the bonds between them. She had no reason to fear him or assume the worst, so why was she doing so? She felt the need to remember something, something important. She figured the nagging warnings had stemmed from this, and perhaps this was how her memories were returning to her. Maybe the byproduct of internal fear was the vision she had, though she could certainly not think it was of her past. For a moment she feared the future, perhaps having seen into it where the Bilbo she had met was replaced with a much more devious one. She thought it unlikely, but decided that she had no reason to be afraid of the small barefoot man. Her memories would return to her, and she would find answers. She could only be patient, but she had to try and control her reactions. It was as if she had to re-teach herself how to interact with others. She felt slightly pathetic and immature.

* * *

Bilbo hadn't followed her, but watched her leave in shock. "Oh dear," he commented with a hand over his forehead, "what have I done?"

Hearing the door open and close, he stood to follow but thought it to be counterintuitive. He figured she either needed a moment to herself after his cheeky comment or simply took the opportunity to depart for good. This particularly troubled him, for she clearly had no idea who she was or where she was and could find herself in quite a bit of trouble. Perhaps she remembered where she came from? No, that wasn't plausible. Surely she would have said something if that were the case. He'd go check on her - if she was still there to check on - but would give her some time just in case.

He took his dish and the bowl of flowers off the table, blowing the candles out in one breath. Walking quickly into the kitchen, he set the flowers on the windowsill and took to cleaning up. His thoughts lingered on the girl for a few minutes before they drifted to memories of his mother and grandfather. He was startled when he heard the door open, only to find a solemn looking stranger-friend before him.

"I'm sorry, Bilbo, it's just -" She began.

"No, no I'm sorry. I was much too forward with my comments and I should have taken the situation into account. You're lost, literally and, seemingly, spiritually or mentally or whatever term you'd like to use." He said, waving his hand about in the air as if to chase away a fly.

"You see, as forward as this will sound, though I've known you for a mere day and don't even know your name, you come off as a friend to me." He said, smiling at her briefly before continuing. "Thinking of my parents and my grandparents, I realize how utterly alone I am here in my house underhill and how I have missed sharing my time in good company. I swear to you that my behavior and words were most unfortunate and unintended on my part. I only wish to offer you food, shelter, and answers if you need them. And, if you're also willing, my deepest and most sincere friendship." He finished, looking up at her gripping to the kitchen doily he had been straightening when she came back in.

She smiled a warm smile and hesitated a moment before reaching her hand out towards the hobbit. "I would like very much to be your friend, Mister Baggins. I know my behavior has been odd and I can't piece everything together at the moment, but I promise I'm trying. I did not mean you or your hospitality any offense when I left. For one reason or another I went into a fight or flight mode and completely threw out everything you had done for me all because of an unwarranted fear." She finished, regretful at first but still eager to patch things up with the small man. She could hardly tell him of the vision, or whatever it was.

"There is no need for such apologies," he answered as he took her hand and gave it a firm shake, "my dear friend."

They stood there in the kitchen, smiling at each other for a moment before he piped up. "If I may ask, what were you afraid of?"

"You." She said through a guilty smile.

"Me?" He answered, taken aback that his comments had not only unnerved her but scared her.

"Yes. Well, not entirely you but more of what you did. Well not even that. I guess more of what you could be capable of." She said, shifting on her feet.

"I'm sorry, I suppose I don't follow." He said, a confused look on his face as he set the doily back down on a shelf.

"I know I don't make any sense right now. My mind keeps urging me to remember something, and it seems that certain things you did and said over dinner only encouraged that feeling. For one reason or another, I let my mind wander and I began worrying that I was unsafe in your home and company. I know it was entirely ridiculous, but I was fearful all the same."

He nodded before gesturing they walk into the sitting room. "I don't understand completely, but I believe I get what you're trying to say. Will you sit with me for a while?"

She began following when she realized how tired she was. After hiking for hours all day on a seemingly empty stomach and being tormented by the memories of a life she couldn't remember, she was exhausted.

"Actually, Bilbo, I'm tired. Would you be offended if I went to bed?"

"Of course not! How rude of me, you've had a long day, a very long day." Giving her a look that said he would never be offended at the mention of relaxation and comfort, he walked her down the hall to the guest room.

"I'm afraid I don't have a supply of women's clothing at the ready." He said, opening the door to his mother's old room and shuffling over to a trunk in the corner. "My mother has some nice dresses in here, though I don't know if you're the dress fairing type." He finished, looking between her and holding up a pale blue striped dress with frilly lace on the cuffs.

"I don't remember if I like dresses or not, actually, but that one is lovely!" She said, taking a sleeve between her fingers. "I wouldn't want to damage it or mess it up."

"Oh, nonsense. There's nothing some soap and water can't work out. You may wear this tomorrow, if you'd like. That way I can get to work on cleaning your - " he gestured with his hand quite hastily, "- attire."

"You are too kind, Bilbo. My clothes are a bit different, aren't they?" She asked, picking pinches of fabric up with her fingers to examine her sweater. She hadn't paid much attention to what she was wearing. Her sweater was black, knitted, and made of some highly stretchy material blend. She had on black pants as well, though they were much thicker and made of some sort of fleece.

"I'm only doing what I should for a guest, and a friend deserves even better." He commented, suddenly dropping the dress and jogging out of the room.

Wondering what his haste was about, she picked up the dress and folded it neatly on top of the trunk. The room was warm and smelled vaguely of flowers. Walking over to the nightstand, she set down the oil lamp Bilbo had handed to her when they entered the room. She sat on the bed, bending down to remove her puffy boots that clung to her legs like a scared child. Taking the right one off first, she relished in the rush of cool air that swept over her feet. These insulated shoes were great for colder weather, she thought, but certainly they did not belong in a much more temperate climate. Perhaps they had been necessary where she was from - or where she had died.

She had just finished taking off both boots and thick pink socks when Bilbo came in, arms full of material. "Oh! Miss I'm so sorry I should have knocked!" He gasped, turning to leave.

"No, Bilbo it's alright. I was just taking my shoes off. It's a wonder my feet didn't burn up and cook in those things." She said, lightly kicking one.

He noticed her feet. " _Definitely not a hobbit, then."_

"I uh, I brought you some more clothing. These resemble, loosely mind you, what you're already wearing. There aren't too many women who wear trousers apart from shield maidens and what have you, but I thought you might be a bit more comfortable wearing something similar." He said placing them down on top of the folded dress. "I'm afraid the trousers won't be as thick, but I reckon they'll do the job just the same. It may be a gamble with the shirts."

She felt the desperate need to hug the hobbit. After her idiocy, forgetfulness, and downright rudeness he was showing her all the compassion and encouragement a loving family member would. Briefly she thought back to the corruption her parent's had spoken of, and wondered if this is how they thought people should treat one another. Regardless, his kindness did not go unnoticed, and she was beaming with gratefulness.

"Bilbo, I don't know what to say..." She said, hugging her arms around herself.

"There is no need," He said, nodding and walking towards the door.

"Bilbo! Wait." She called, stepping away from the bed.

He turned around in wait, his brows raised in anticipation.

"I just...I wanted to say thank you. In some strange way, your kindness has made me feel normal again. I don't even know my name, yet I know I at least have a friend. And that's made me feel one step closer to belonging somewhere." She let out, averting his gaze and feeling very vulnerable at the voicing of her emotions.

He smiled gently at her. "You are most welcome. I hope you sleep well. If you need anything," He said, giving her a pointed look.

"Thank you, goodnight Bilbo." She said, and he clapped a hand on her arm.

She immediately winced in pain. His hand had landed perfectly on the injury she had nearly forgotten from this morning.

"Are you alright?" He asked, searching her face.

"Yes," she said through a forced smile, "I just hurt my arm - I don't know when or where - and you happened to graze the spot."

"I'm so terribly sorry! Would you like me to get you something for it? I have a nice salve, seeps the pain right up." He said, half leaving the doorway in the chance she took his offer.

"No, that's alright. If I need it tomorrow I'll let you know. Goodnight." She said, and closed the door to a hobbit who's face was full of concern before he could protest.

"Goodnight!" He called through the door and walked off towards his study to grab a thick, dusty book before plopping himself down in one of his many magnificent armchairs.

Feeling ready for sleep, she stripped off her pants and left them in a pool on the floor. Next followed her sweater after some slight pain in raising her arms, draping it over the bedpost. She decided to leave her tank top on but removed her bra - the wires were absolutely horrid after having trekked around all day.

As she let the straps fall, she noticed her arms in the candlelight. Both were heavily bruised from shoulder to forearm, black and blue and red splotches consuming her flesh in giant pools. The sight scared her to her core. Because she had no inkling as to how she was harmed or who had harmed her, she could only grasp at straws. She figured it had something to do with her death, if she had indeed died, but suddenly the thought that this was a result of an altercation with someone here in Middle-Earth left her very unnerved. The possibility of someone harming her while she was here, very much alive, was a deeper threat than someone having harmed her in her past life, or at least past world.

She looked up into the mirror that hung over the nightstand. She didn't recognize the girl looking back, yet she knew her to be a trusted friend. Her auburn hair was still tucked away in its braid and her cheeks were flushed with what she assumed to be a kiss from the sun. She stepped closer and peered at her eyes. They were indeed peculiar, as Bilbo had mentioned. Evergreen and swirls of grey pierced against the contrast of her pupils. She wrinkled her nose, feeling as though she inhaled dust from the piece of glass before her face. There was slight bruising on her forehead that was covered mainly by hair, but as she examined further she found the bruising continued well into her scalp. The flesh was sensitive and inflamed to the touch, but at least less noticeable with her hair as a shield. Perhaps this is where the dull headache from this morning had come from. She wondered briefly if she had fallen - certainly a head injury would cause memory loss.

Knowing she couldn't do anything about the bruises or how she got them and suddenly feeling the tiredness tumble over her like curtains of slumber, she turned off her oil lamp and got into bed. She climbed in the covers with trepidation and was met with pure heaven. The mattress gave way to her weight perfectly, not sinking in too much yet not rigid with abandonment. It took her a few tries to find a comfortable position with her arms being tender, but she managed eventually.

The thoughts of her injuries long gone, she settled on the tour of his home and everything she had learned about him and hobbits in general. She favored the memory of their enjoyable dinner, their conversation reflecting a happy life in the Shire aside from her abrupt retreat outside. Regardless of her past, she decided that she wanted to stay here. When her memories returned to her, she would take them into consideration, but she could easily envision living here amongst the small, barefoot people and the glorious fields and towering trees. She could adapt to life in Middle-Earth, and she would. She had grown up away from reliance on technology and appliances and already appreciated the bond she held with nature and her place in it. She suddenly remembered the trees from their walk earlier on, the sunlight pouring through them like rays of magic that flowed like water. Her mind became heavy, and when her thoughts slowed to a gentle murmur, she drifted off into sleep.

* * *

She was running. Her boots were lagging in the thick, icy snow; her toes were catching on shards of frozen rock as she stumbled forward, but she was running. Pain prickled up through her chest and throat with each breath of glacial air, the clouds of exhalation leaving a trail in her desperate movements. She was slow, but she was running.

Her head had been caught up in a fog, but she knew what she had to do. Everything was ringing. Her ears rang with silence, blocking out the sound of her shallow and unsteady breath. Not even her heart, frantic in beating, broke the silence of the ringing. She knew what she had to do; she had to run.

She ran for miles, across plains of ice, traversing slippery slopes, and over deep oceans of snow until she finally stopped. Sitting down against a tree, she no longer felt her legs beneath her. Her hands had frozen in fists and her nose seemed to have fallen off her face. It seemed the mere action of blinking threatened to shatter her eyelids. She leaned forward on her knees and let her head fall between them. She was sure her legs would give out on her any moment, but she couldn't feel the pain, only the numb darkness that was intent to consume her limb by limb.

Blood dripped down from the tip of her nose and into a small pool in the snow. She watched it grow larger, focusing on the pounding in her head and the constant ringing in her ears. Her throat stung with the mixture of ice, blood, and adrenaline but she couldn't give any more. She thought for a moment to cover up the blood pool with snow, to keep on moving while daylight was still present, but she thought she had ran far enough. She thought she was safe enough.

She should have kept running.

A figure moved in the shadows a few yards away. It was fast at first, but when it identified its prey it decided to take its time. Lurking between the trees with a staggering agility, it crept closer and closer, each crunch of snow beneath its feet heightening the tension in the air. It stood, mere feet away from the girl at the base of the tree with its arms hanging nimbly, its chest rising and falling with deep breaths of bloodshed. It bared its pearly white teeth, a contrast against the deep-set scratches of fleshy blood on its face, and smiled.

"Oh Hayden." He said, a slight chuckle lingering in the icy air.

Suddenly the ringing stopped, and she heard the breath hitch in her throat; now there were two sets of breathing. She saw his boots first, soaked to the core with snow and splattered with blood. As if fueled by a renewed sense of survival, she looked up at his face without hesitation. His smile sickened her, his twitching hands itching to lunge.

"Come back. We can forget this whole thing." He said, cocking his head at her fearless expression. She didn't move, didn't speak. She sat there staring a hole right through his head. A hole she wished she could have made had he not taken away her firearms.

"You've got quite a bit of spirit left in you. I have to say," He said, pacing to her right and behind the tree. She listened intently as his boots met and left the ground at a steady pace. "I thought I had successfully broken you. Where ever did you get the encouragement?" He finished, making a full circle and stopping again in front of her. He crouched down to her, so that they were eye to eye.

She wasn't sure where it came from, but without realizing it, she spat at him. Her ball of spit found his cheek perfectly, a trail of bloody saliva finding its way towards the corner his mouth. To her surprise, he licked his lips.

"I guess it's better for me," he continued, "if you hadn't run away I would have left towards town and found myself another whore for the night. This is much better." He said, reaching a hand out to her face and cupping her cheek.

Every fiber of her being wanted to push him over, topple him to the ground and beat him to death. But she felt weak, even in the presence of adrenaline, and she knew she'd only get herself closer to death's front gate. So she sat there, feeling the roughness of his hands as the blood returned to her cheeks. And then suddenly, he was upon her, removing her clothes and pinning her down into the blood-soaked arctic earth. It was cold but her body was already frozen to its core. She felt her back go numb after a few moments.

She fought him as hard as she could, attempting to crawl in the snow, but to no avail; her fingers scrambled angrily as he pulled her back. He was much stronger than she was and she still couldn't feel her legs. Her arms began to break as if from the inside under the weight of him, his hands digging into her as if she were nothing but air. She didn't give up, not really, but she just physically couldn't bear to fight anymore. She had been fighting him for months now, only to have been beaten and disciplined and left off worse. She had learned to obey as a means of survival. And though this was not the outcome she wanted, she wanted another chance at life. If being raped and beaten by this man one more time meant that she could survive, she had to endure. This is what she reminded herself with his every touch, every noise, and every cry of pain that refused to escape her lips.

When he had finished, he re-buckled his pants and stretched his arms out in content, sitting down in the place he had found her. He looked out through the trees as the sun began to set, listening to the various animals scurrying about in the winter wonderland.

Slowly standing up, she felt the blood return to her cold limbs after her body's moment of rest. She dressed as quickly and as silently as she could, watching his every move. He didn't look at her or show concern in her movements, but she knew he was watching intently. Her next few moments would tell him all he needed to know.

She approached him, sitting down next to him as if in submission, and placed her head on his shoulder. She couldn't lead on that she was planning on running, that she was planning on killing him. She had been playing his game for far too long to lose now or give in. Though she had thought escaping would bring her a victory, she was evidently still a contestant.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I don't know what's come over me." She said, trying to sound as somber as she could without releasing her rage. She had endured him for long enough, letting herself go now would certainly not keep her alive. Her eyes darted around the forest in search of a weapon or a vantage point. She needed to take the upper hand.

He turned to her and picked her face up, placing a kiss on her nose dried with blood. "I don't know if I can forgive you this time." He said, a smile of regret on his face. "You ran pretty far, and you damaged my face." He pointed to the scratches running down the side of his cheek. She had taken a small gardening rake to him, thinking that the pain alone would hold him back. She had been wrong.

He had walked right in on her packing to leave. Her heavy snow boots on, thick pants, and a down winter coat. Her small duffle bag was filled to the brim with canned goods, clothing, medical supplies, and a small steak knife. He had ransacked the bag, throwing everything at her amidst his screams. When he had asked her what she was doing, she couldn't think of an excuse. She ran outside, him trailing behind, and managed to stop at the garden shed. Picking up anything she could find, she whipped around as he grabbed a fist full of her coat in one hand, the other coming up to find her face before smashing it back against the shed door. She quickly shook off her coat, releasing his hold on her, and sliced his face with the handheld garden rake. He cried out in pain, and she ran.

Now they sat, in mere silence in the frozen forest. She had no idea where she had run to, but she knew they were very far from home. If she didn't manage to escape tonight, she would have to get back to their cabin alive. Given his unpredictable and unstable mannerisms, she wasn't sure she would be able to do that.

"I'm sorry. I should never have left the house." She replied in a whisper.

He looked back at her with a sigh. "If you leave again, I'll kill you." He said calmly, as if this conversation were between a child and their scolding parent.

He stood up and held out a hand to her. "Get up; let's go home. I'm hungry."

She took it and rose to her feet, now aware of just how tired and fragile her body had become. They began walking side by side back through the forest, following the trail of blood that one of them had left. The sun had begun to set with darkness threatening to take over. It was oddly comforting to her knowing that they would be enveloped in night's arms soon. The sun saw too much.

Daniel had started mouthing off a list of things that needed to be done around the house as well as things he disapproved of her in general. It was the same as he always did, reminding her how stupid or unworthy she was and giving her advice on how to better herself for him. She mainly nodded or verbally agreed, but he paid no mind to her responses. He took to telling her what he wanted for dinner, she told him it would be no problem to make.

They passed a rocky clearing, full of icicles and dead branches. She made a mental note of a good sized pointed rock quite close to the path they'd be walking through, and made her decision. It was now or never. The lifeless branches would soon be accompanied by lifeless limbs.

She sprung forward, grasping at the rock and prying it from its arctic abode. It was freezing cold yet incredibly smooth in her frozen hand, the ice giving off a polished shine. She turned around to Daniel, who had not been expecting her behavior and stood a few feet away searching for her in the descending darkness. Taking a breath, she broke out into a run with her arm raised, rock in hand, and braced for impact. Only, it didn't come. At least not the way she expected.

She was on the ground with his weight pressing down on her, her hands buried in the snow. He pried the rock from her hand, screaming as he moved, and brought it down on her head. It must have been the adrenaline, for she didn't feel a thing at first. When the second blow came, she started to hear the ringing again and began to panic. She heard the shattering of bone, felt the pop and release of blood on flesh. This was it. This was her end.

A third blow didn't come. He just stared down into her eyes, glowing with life in the twilight. She felt a tear escape from the corner of her eye as she met his stare with an equally intense one. Only, her eyes were bent on survival while his were focused on extermination.

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as if this were a simple game of tackle.

"Hayden. You're not making this easy. When I said you still had spirit I didn't intend on you keeping it."

"No. But I did." She spat out, her voice sounding hoarse and distant yet triumphant.

He realized she wasn't backing down into total submission. Suddenly his demeanor changed, and he dug is hands deeper into her arms. "You can't run forever. I'll always be there. In your mind, in your dreams. I'll be there. You can't get rid of me. No matter what you say or do or how hard you fight it, I'm a part of you now." He spat out. When she did not answer, he repeated in a yell. "I AM A PART OF YOU!"

His raised tone did not phase her. He had no power over her now; she was finally going to win. "No, Daniel. You're wrong. You never were, and you never will be." She replied, a smile spreading across her face as her eyes searched the sky. Stars had begun to poke out of their hiding places; an owl flew from tree to tree in search of dinner.

He looked at her for a moment, as if he were truly taking in her words. Perhaps he was saying goodbye, she did not know. She couldn't care less. The ringing in her head had only gotten louder, the hot blood flowing down her face and into her eyes, reminding her how close an escape route really was. And for that, she was actually thankful.

She took one last look at him, and then at the world around her. The forest had always been her friend. Since she was a child with her parents to the days she spent isolated and beaten under Daniel's watchful eye, the forest always held out a comforting hand to her. She had become accustomed to the sounds of animals, to the unforgiving weather, to the smell of bark and grass. Grass. She wished she was lying on it now. So soft and delicate. She smiled inwardly knowing that beneath the blood and the snow and the dirt were little seedlings waiting patiently for spring.

He took a final swing.

She took her last breath.


	3. The Reprieve and The Chores

Bilbo heard the scream just as his head had started to bobble around in an attempts to stay awake between the warmth of his roaring fire and his delightful book. He threw the book in the air, much out of the way of the fire's grasp thankfully, and gripped the arms of his chair as if an intrusion were underway.

In his tired haze, it took him a few moments to register that the sound had come from someone in his home. He couldn't quite remember who until he heard another shriek pierce down the halls and into his eardrums. Oh yes, it was the girl in his mother's room.

He leapt to his feet, running for what felt like the first time in ages down the hallway. He looked around, expecting to see signs of danger and mentally scolding himself for not grabbing some sort of weapon in the parlor. He saw a walking cane towering over a stool and leaning against a wall behind a stack of wrinkled papers. Grabbing it, he sent the papers flying about and the stool circling on one leg before continuing his jog down the hall to his guest's aid.

He stopped suddenly, hearing the girl's muffled screams and cries on the other side of the door and braced himself for the worst. Whatever was in there would no doubt come after him as well - he would be as ready as he could be.

" _I am a BAGGINS and a TOOK!"_ He thought hastily, pushing the door open and holding his walking stick up above his head like a spear. Taking a deep breath, he expected a drunken neighbor or perhaps a snarling, disgusting creature to be standing over the girl. He half expected to see blood everywhere and the room disheveled. Only, there was no such thing. What lied before him was a scared shaking girl in the middle of the bed with the blankets balled up into fists against her chest.

"Miss! Are you alright? What hap -" He began, stepping into the room, stick in hand.

"NO!" She screamed, scrambling off the bed and falling to the floor.

He crept around to the southern side of the room to aid her, confused and concerned at her sudden behavior. He looked to the window for broken glass or some inclination of an invasion but found the moon and stars instead. She scrambled backwards out of the moonlight and into the wall, banging into the rocking chair that sat there and clung to one of his mother's trunks on the floor.

This girl, though she had been lost and confused before, seemed utterly horrified. She knelt before him in complete petrifaction, resembling an animal cornered before a kill. Her sobs became more distraught as he stepped closer, causing him to stop completely and place the stick against the wall. Perhaps his intrusion had scared her, though he did not think this was entirely at fault for her actions or screams.

"It's alright, Miss. It's me, Bilbo." He said, raising his hands in mercy. Perhaps she had forgotten the events of the day, he mused. Perhaps she had no recollection of how she ended up in his home. She could be seeing a stranger for the first time yet again.

She stared at him with frantic eyes for a moment before looking around the room. She seemed to slump down even further into herself with each glance, almost as if she was expecting something or someone to come flying at her. She began crying louder after realizing it was just her and Bilbo in the room, allowing herself to fully break down. Her body began shaking and she pulled her legs to her chest in an attempt to reassure herself she was all in one piece.

Bilbo watched for a moment before slowly crouching down to her level. He did not want to get too close, but he did not want to stand over her and come off as a threat. Whatever had happened was obviously something mental; nothing had broken in and no one had gotten hurt. It was then that he noticed the deep stretches of bruising that had taken reign of her arms, contrasting greatly with the ivory of her skin and the soft pale moonlight that had lit up the room. Whatever had caused those bruises must have been strong and very forceful. He sucked in air in a loud gasp, not realizing his noise had startled the girl before they locked eyes.

"Miss! Your, your arms, they're...are you alright Miss?" He asked, gently pointing to her arms before placing a hand over his mouth. If he had known she was injured like this earlier he would have sent for a healer and given her proper attention. Guilt and anger washed over him like a flood of emotion; this was no way a friend should act let alone a decent, reasonable person. He should have pressed the matter further when he had offered her that salve before bed. He should have at least loosely examined her for injury when he found her in the forest.

"Hay...Hay...Hayden." She burst out through quaking lips. Tears continued to pool out of her eyes but she managed to hold back the sobs, letting herself become soaked in wet silence.

"Hayden?" Bilbo questioned. He had never heard the word before. Not quite sure if it was a name, a place, or something entirely different, he sat patiently and waited for her to answer. His eyes darted back and forth between her arms and her eyes.

"My name is Hayden." She said after a long pause, gaining some confidence back in her voice.

"Oh, well it's nice to meet you, Hayden." He said with amusement, attempting to elicit a smile from the girl.

When no smile nor response came from her, he began to scoot towards her. She flinched in fear, her eyes searching his before letting him advance. He reached out towards her arms still bound tightly around her legs.

"May I see your arms?" He asked, taking her hands in his after receiving a small nod in response. "They look fairly bruised. This must be excruciatingly painful. I'd like to help, if you'll let me." He finished, running his fingers gently over the wounds and giving her hands a gentle squeeze.

She simply nodded in response, giving his hands no reciprocating warmth or comfort.

"Do you remember how this happened?" He asked, reaching up to the bed and draping a blanket gently around her shaking shoulders. She made no move to adjust it or even notice its presence; she merely stared in silence at her knees before giving him another small nod.

Noticing her inability or refusal to speak, he continued questioning. "Did you fall?"

She shook her head back and forth in a resounding no, tears welling up once again.

"Did, did someone do this to you?" He asked again, reaching out to retake a hand.

She shook her head in a small yes, letting the tears fall once again in hot oceans down her cheeks as she let her head drop into her lap. The sight of this girl was too much to bear, and Bilbo found himself fighting back the urge to embrace her and hold her close. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs, staring at her crouched figure for a sign of anything else she would give him.

"Hayden. Who did this to you? I assure you I won't let them get away with this. They won't ever lay a hand on you again."

Her sobs slowly began to stop after a few minutes had passed and she lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, full of resentment. She swallowed hard, holding back the tears.

"He did."

"Who did?" Bilbo pressed, but she gave him no answer.

Instead, she bit her lip and looked up towards the window at the night sky. The stars were so lovely here. There were no lights to pollute the air or dim the heavens in all their glory. The heavens. She wondered briefly about the types of religions in Middle-Earth, if there were any, before wondering if that is where she had come from. She knew she had died; without a doubt she was dead. This piece of knowledge unnerved her at her core yet also comforted her. She was far away from Daniel here and finally knew where she had come from and how she ended up in Middle-Earth. The pieces in between were slightly blurry and she wasn't sure anyone in this world could answer those questions, but she at least knew she had died. This fact, however, was unnatural; one does not usually live with the knowledge they have been reborn or given a second chance. She wasn't sure how she felt about being dead and also alive. Did that mean she had passed through the heavens only to be given a new life here in Middle-Earth? Or was this a form of an afterlife?

"Hayden. I promise you, no harm will come to you here under my care, under my roof." He stammered, huffing at the thought that she would possibly withhold this information in fear he would tell her attacker of her whereabouts. "Who hurt you, and why did they?" He asked, tweaking his head up in her direction to disrupt her thoughts.

"I'm not sure how to say this," she began, feeling a little more centered than before, "but I'm dead. I died, Bilbo." She closed her eyes, imagining the moonlight swimming through the air to capture her face. Somehow it gave her a sense of strength. Perhaps this was a good thing. Death wasn't so bad. She could rebuild her life, with a hobbit as her friend if he'd allow it after all this.

He looked back at her with a look of disbelief and panic. She couldn't be dead - she was sitting a foot in front of him! She didn't look dead and certainly didn't smell dead. He couldn't wrap his head around what she was trying to say, but thought it best to stay quiet in hopes that she would elaborate.

She caught onto his inability to comprehend the notion of being dead while apparently being alive, and let out a shaky sigh. "I don't expect you to believe me or understand. I'm dead, or at least, I was. In my world I died and somehow, someway, or under someone's power, I was given a second chance at life here in Middle-Earth or my soul was transported here in an afterlife. But I know, beyond a reasonable doubt, that I died and woke up here in Middle-Earth in the forest where you found me. These bruises," she said raising her arms slightly, "are proof of that. I got them in my struggle with Daniel."

"Daniel?" Bilbo inquired. Surprisingly, this was all making sense to him. Her forgetfulness and cluelessness of her location and name had seemed strange earlier in addition to her mention of another world and some of the strange things that inhabited it. It all seemed like a joke at first or something someone would say were they not level in the head. But this piece of information put it all together and he felt himself overwhelmingly wanting to believe her story rather than doubt it.

Hayden took notice to his lack of protest, and assumed he either thought she was crazy or believed her outright. Right now she didn't care. She was trying to hold back the fear and pain welling up inside her chest as she relived the dream once again, her death once again. She knew she had to tell Bilbo; it was the only way she could try to make peace with her passing and gain acceptance in her re-gifted life. And though it would always be painful, she knew that if she didn't tell him now while the pain and the fear was fresh, she would always have an excuse to avoid it.

And so she told him. Nearly everything that had transpired the night she died. How she had swung at Daniel with the rake after having her head slammed into a shed door, a rush of adrenaline pumping through her and urging her to fight back for once. How hard she had pushed herself to keep running, keep moving despite every fiber in her being telling her to quit and give up. How he had found her and toyed with her, treating her as a child and cornering her like a predator. How he had grabbed her arms, pushed her into the snow laden earth and defiled her once again. She told him how she had submitted to him, not out of defeat but out of fear and determination, taking the next chance she had at escaping his grasp for good. She told him how he had overpowered her somehow and turned the tables, pinning her down again and cracking her head open like an egg with ease. She told him how ironic it was that her last thoughts were of the woods and grass and suddenly she awoke in a bed made of the soft green stuff. Mainly, she told the barefoot hobbit sitting before her how she had lost herself in her previous life, only to have found her heart again in death.

She touched briefly on Daniel's outbursts, his fits of rage and abuse, but tried to stay focused on the night he had taken her life. She figured she would have many years to retell her story if she chose to, but minimal background information was needed on how her and Daniel's relationship had sparked, grown, blossomed, and then dwindled into oblivion. All that mattered was she was here, he was not, and she had a second chance.

Bilbo listened intently, letting the girl talk while trying to muffle his gasps and comments of horror. She didn't hold back, each word coming out of her mouth like poison dripping straight off death's scythe. He couldn't believe another person would be capable of such things, especially to a girl like Hayden. He hadn't known her long, but he could tell she was a good person, far from deserving any of the things this Daniel had done. He felt a pang of adrenaline rush through him at the thought of Daniel being in Middle-Earth - Bilbo would have gladly taken his life if given the chance.

This girl had already endured so much in her lifetime and he was reminded of that with every sob that escaped her lips in the storytelling. She was placed in this world all alone. What would have happened to her if he had not found her earlier that day? Would she have stayed in the woods, only to have eventually fallen asleep and remembered dying? She would have woken up completely alone and terrified.

Suddenly he threw all notions of Hayden being crazy out the window, scolding himself for ever thinking such things. Though things of this outrageous, miraculous nature only seemed to happen in his books, he saw no reason to doubt the girl. The fear he saw in her eyes told him all he needed to know. Taking a leap of faith, he trusted in her words. He looked at the girl before him, wiping her tears on the blanket and holding her head in her hands.

"Come," He said as he rose, holding his hands out to the girl. She took them and stood, clutching the blanket around her. "Let's get some sleep." He gestured to the bed and she climbed in, letting the hobbit tuck her in like a child.

"I know there is nothing I can do or say to make right anything that which has happened to you. But you are always welcome in my home, and I will see to it that you are comfortable here for as long as you wish to stay. I can cook for you, read to you, or I can even leave you alone and let you have roam of my home if you'd like - so long as you don't get lost. I may have to draw you a map." He said, getting a chuckle from her under the blankets. "But most importantly Hayden, if you're still willing to let me, I can be your friend."

Looking up at the hobbit, she finally saw him for who he was. Not just a creature of slight habit and minimal hoard but a man full of love and warmth. He wasn't just a hobbit - a small man with big, hairy feet and pointy ears - he was Bilbo. He was already her friend. She hadn't had a true friend in a long time and she saw no reason why she should continue her life further without one.

"Thank you, Bilbo." She whispered, her eyes shining with hope.

"You are most welcome, Miss." He said, placing a chaste kiss on her head.

"Aren't you going to bed?" She asked, watching him walk over to the rocking chair on her left.

"Indeed I am." He answered with a smile before shushing her and giving her a pointed look to get to sleep.

"You don't have to stay in here Bilbo, I'll be alright." She answered.

"I know I don't have to; I want to. Besides," He said, sitting on the edge of the chair, "I fall asleep in my armchairs all the time. Sometimes it's easier to sleep that way, especially with a good book." He answered, receiving a small smile from her in return.

Sitting back in the padded rocking chair, he looked over at the girl curled up in the blankets, her face softer than before yet full of contemplation. After a few minutes, her brows relaxed as sleep took her once again and he felt a surge of pride trickle over him. He would be there for his friend until the day she died - again - and would do everything in his power to see to her having a happy, prosperous, and safe life. This was his purpose, he decided instantaneously. He would take no wife nor bear any children. He would look over this girl until the end of his days. This star that had lost its place in the heavens.

* * *

She awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside her window, now flooding the room with orange light. For a moment she recalled her awakening in the forest the day before and panic threatened to take hold of her once more at the thought of having to relive everything or forgetting anything again. She inhaled deeply, the sheets traced with linen and floral notes, before cracking an eye open to peak over at the rocking chair. It was empty, much to her relief.

The terrors that had accompanied the night had not only rocked Hayden to her core, but she feared the hobbit would have a change of heart and want to throw her out. In the off chance that he wanted her to stay as he had said and would not go back on his word, she dreaded the awkward embarrassment that may follow in the days to come. Waking up to the hobbit waiting for her or asleep himself would have only brought on that embarrassment before she was ready for it.

Burying her face back in the pillows, she allowed herself to relax into the bed once more. The action brought joy to her soul; she wasn't sure she'd be able to find relief after the dream she had last night, yet she didn't have another nightmare after falling back asleep. In fact, she had dreamt of something quite peaceful and familiar. This dream had been frequent in her youth, popping in and out of her mind every day it seemed, and always played out in the same manner. In fact, she dreamt of it so often, her parents would ask her how her friend was doing nearly every morning.

She would be in a meadow full of flowers and dewy grass, the blooms perfuming the air with sweet innocence. Sometimes she would be lying in the midst of it, other times she would be standing on the rim, taking in the beauty inch by inch. After a while, someone would join her but never quite came into view, instead remaining in the surrounding forest to playfully taunt her until she decided to go running after them.

It was a boy, she was certain of that, and he had long blond hair that would whip in the wind as he ducked in and behind the tree line, their laughter mingling in the spring breeze. At times he would reach out to her, trying to take her hand but never quite being able to do so. It was as if a force was holding each of them back just inches within reach. She could never see his face when he wasn't chasing after her or being chased - it was always blurred out and foggy.

He was never a threat to her nor she to him, and she always sought after him like a bee to pollen, curiosity and desire consuming her. She wanted to know who he was, what his name was, and why he always came to find her in the meadow. It was so vibrant, so sensory. She could recall every detail with such accuracy it was almost as if it were a memory. At times, she felt herself relying on his appearance as a child, finding an effortless friend in him she could place in no other. He comforted her without trying, without saying more than a few words to her. She didn't even know what his face looked like, only that she assumed it was one of a friend. Their encounter became so steady, so reliable, she felt at home in her sleep.

She had these dreams until she entered young adulthood when they became scattered and blurry, though she knew the dream to be the same. She noticed his voice drop in tone and his stature morph from that of a small, nimble child to that of a taller, faster young man. His hands were much larger and showed signs of work, dwarfing her fingers as he tried to reach to her, failing as always. She would find herself dreaming of him during daylight, wondering if he was somehow connected to her and was growing up just as she was in some parallel universe or perhaps across the world. It seemed the more she wished the dream upon her at night, the less frequent it became. Over time he became nothing but a fantasy, a star far and distant waiting to be wished upon.

Last night, her second dream had been no different save for the fact that he was now a muscular, strong man with a laugh that made her heart flutter lovingly like a butterfly's wings after escaping its cocoon. She wanted to know what it sounded like when he talked or sang, expecting the same sensation would wash over her. His hair was just as blond, though it had been tied up halfway and blended into his fur coat more so than the dark brown tunic he had usually worn as a child.

Turning over onto her back, she looked up at the ceiling with its exposed beams and wondered why the dream had been so clear - it hadn't been that clear since she was a child. As he had reached for her, she was able to see the fresh dirt gently ingrained in his nail beds after he had fallen over a root, his coat made of what looked like velvet yet trodden with dust and life. As always, however, she could never truly see his face. Perhaps these dreams came to her when she least expected it or when she needed grounding. Her parents had always told her that the heavens worked in mysterious ways and that everything happened because of fate. She certainly wasn't expecting the man of her dreams, quite literally, to show up after dreaming of the man of her nightmares.

One thing was certain, and she knew it no matter how hard she tried to brush the notion off; this dream man would always have a piece of her that she never needed, or wanted, back. She had given herself so willingly to him as a child, and that act alone had bonded the two. There would always be a part of him that would stay in her heart and conscience, guiding her towards the light. She closed her eyes and abruptly shook her head. She didn't know this man, even if she had grown up with him in a sense. She didn't even know if he was real. The last thing she wanted right now was to be caught up in some fantasy or letting herself become weak and vulnerable. She had allowed that with Daniel; she would never allow it again.

Tears prickled out of her eyes and dropped down the sides of her face into the sheets. Her eyes stung and felt as though they were on fire but she did not care. Somehow, the pain reminded her that she was here, she was alive, but she had also been killed. She had tried to linger on her dream, the good dream, but somehow it rounded back to Daniel. Sucking a quick breath in, she fought to keep her emotions contained, to bury them away inside her heart. She had a new start here. There was no reason to continue fearing him or dwelling on her death. She didn't need to be afraid. Yet she was. She didn't want to shut herself out from this new world. Yet she found herself preparing to do just that.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed in bed, but she knew it had been hours. The sun had risen, the birds had left their morning perches in search of food, and hobbits had been scurrying down the path on their daily routines. It must have been noon, she guessed, when she finally sat up like a stiff piece of wood. She thought it smart to get up and get on with the day, but she just couldn't bear to move. Her thoughts lingered still on her death and Daniel, trailing off to contemplations of herself.

She didn't know who she was, not really. She knew who she had been before meeting Daniel and losing herself. She hated who she had become, how she had let him dictate and manipulate her into believing she deserved such a cruel existence. She had been loved and cherished by her parents and Miss Liuellan; they offered her the chance to take the world in her hands and leave her mark on it with resounding courage.

Life had always held promise for her in its adventures, sorrows, joys, triumphs and failures. She had never backed away from a fight, always pushing herself to try harder and accomplish more. She enjoyed growing from her mistakes and accomplishments, taking every chance to prove her loyalty and devotion to her parents and herself. There had been a fire lit deep inside her that called to her, urging her to seek out fate and look it in the eye, to ask for more. What had happened to her?

She had become a creature scrambling for survival. Daniel had tormented her, promising her a future where she could take hold of her dreams and make them a reality with him by her side. He had tricked her, conformed her mind to his will and began breaking her down layer by layer until he finally blew her fire out. She didn't want to think of the times he had defied her, beaten her, or threatened her and surprisingly she was able to keep these memories at bay. All she felt now was a self loathing growing stronger with every breath, every thought.

Her parents had taught her how to fight, literally and figuratively. She had trained with her father with throwing axes in the forest; her mother had taught her how to sword fight, or sword dance as she would call it. Yet, in her time of need, she had not resorted to any of her teachings, her habits by nature. Without her firearms, she hadn't known what to do to survive. Though her parents had not prepared her to handle being tortured and held captive, she had known better by their upbringing. What had happened to Hayden Telchara?

Her last name. She had remembered. A sense of identity flooded over her in an instant, reminding her of the deep devotion to her parents and then of how she had betrayed them. She had let herself become weak, abused, and lost. She had disgraced them and their family name. She wished she hadn't remembered it.

Her father had always told her their name was sacred and old, coming from ancestors far away and long buried. He insisted that it had ties to smithing and forging, though she always took this as boasting words of a father. She never voiced this, for she could see the seriousness and loving tendencies that would accompany his stories of his ancestors and his namesake. She always thought to ask more about the history but never got the chance. Life seemed to take the reigns as she grew up, never leaving enough time for moments that needed to occur.

Eventually, she found herself swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. She stared at the bookcase, full of endless stories and unknown tales begging to have their pages touched and turned. Her curiosity was at full play, though she couldn't bring herself to stand up and search the shelves. Instead she just stared, marveling at the scale of literature this hobbit had not just in this room but in his whole house. She wondered briefly if the books in this room were his mother's and pushed down the urge to read every novel. She didn't want to be overstepping any boundary if these were indeed Belladonna's prized pieces of literature.

And so she sat like this on the edge, taking in all that she had endured in her lifetime and encountered in the last twenty four hours or so. The guilt she felt welling up inside at her seclusion from the hobbit grew with each passing minute but she couldn't bring herself to get up and face him. As far as guests went, she was making a horrible one. Her rudeness was not deliberate nor was her unsociable state. It was as if her mind had separated from her physical body; all she could do was sit and think about everything. She felt numb, as though the icy snow had found her once again and frozen her body and mind in place.

At the remembrance of winter's embrace, she began sobbing once more, clutching her arms tightly and causing the bruised flesh to turn white under the pressure. The pain didn't phase her. She was reminding herself that the pain she felt was all too real. It was all her fault.

* * *

Bilbo worked about his home worriedly, attempting to keep himself busy with the piles of forgotten tasks that met him in every nook and cranny but honestly just made a larger mess of things as his mind wandered. He found himself stacking papers and putting them in a basket in the pantry next to some red cabbage when he realized he was puttering around aimlessly, lost in his thoughts. Frustration welled up inside him as he worried about what else he might have put away in a place where it didn't belong.

It was nearly noon and Hayden had not risen from bed. He had heard her cries earlier in the morning, though she was not screaming or expressing the abhorrent fear as she was last night. He thought she needed some time alone to take in her death and process her place in his world. He expected to have a hard time with it himself, but upon rising in the early twilight he found himself at peace with the whole thing. He had looked at her whilst creeping around towards the door.

Something felt right about her, the strange and small woman who was not a woman. His heart was telling him to ignore the outlandishness of the situation and much to his surprise his head was agreeing. This girl was sent to Middle-Earth for a reason - perhaps for a better life - and he would see to it that that reason was fulfilled.

He had recalled reading stories of people, mainly elves, who had memories of a past life from somewhere distant and different, as if they had been reborn into different bodies with the same souls, fractured and pieced back together. Though her story had nothing to do with faint memories of a past life, she did share the same traits of knowing she was placed in his world. Either way, he knew she had the honest eyes of a friend. Perhaps this was a story new in entirety waiting to be told.

Breakfast, midmorning munchies, and lunch had come and passed with no sign of the red head. He had sipped his tea and nibbled on his rolls and various cheeses in the growing afternoon, his worry growing into anxiety.

" _I have_ _given her plenty of space and time alone, and will continue to do so until she is good and ready to embrace the world again, but she has to eat something!"_ He thought impatiently.

Bilbo couldn't imagine not eating anything for an entire day unless one had a horrible stomach ailment and couldn't keep the food that was going in from coming out. She had missed out on porridge with butter and nutmeg, toast with jam and brisk tea, rolls with cheeses and cured meats, more steaming tea, and now she was looking to miss supper as well. This was simply unacceptable, and he as a host knew it.

Figuring she wouldn't be in the mood for a proper meal, he set about fixing a homemade stew of sorts. He had a few vegetables that needed cooking and plenty of chicken bones that needed to be made into broth. And so, with the sun low in the sky and edging towards a promise of night, he set about in his kitchen, intent on chopping and slicing and boiling up a concoction so good, it would have the girl stumbling out of the room and inching to climb into the pot herself to get a taste.

A few hours had passed with Bilbo working gingerly in his kitchen, beads of sweat forming on his brow in the heat of things. He enjoyed cooking, but this was different. This was not just cooking, this was turning food into a remedy. This took time, patience, and a bit of well wishing. Finally, he was satisfied with the soup-stew that was being ladled into a bowl for the girl. He took the bowl in his hands after placing a spoon in the liquid and set off down the hall with light feet.

He knocked on the door, unsure as to how the girl would greet him.

"Good evening, Hayden. I've made you some supper. You can eat in the room, if you'd like." He called through the wood after rapping on the door a second time with no response.

After a moment, the door slowly opened to a red faced girl, drained of all energy and motivation. She smiled weakly at him, going through the motions and niceties but he noticed the gesture didn't reach her eyes as it should have.

"Thank you, Bilbo. It smells delicious." She said, taking the bowl from his hands and breathing in the steaming broth. She hadn't thought much about food today but felt her stomach leap with anticipation at the sight and smell of the soup.

"It was supposed to be a stew." He said, offering an alternative reason for the soups watery nature, as if the girl would be offended. "It needed more time and a few more ingredients for that, I'm afraid. I figured you'd be hungry - I certainly know I was - so I finished it up, scooped it in the bowl, and brought it down here to you. I had a few vegetables that needed to be eaten you see; if I hadn't used those carrots tonight they would have turned into piles of mush sooner or later and -"

"Bilbo, you are too kind to me. Really, you are. This is very sweet of you and I'm sure it will be one of the best things I've ever eaten in my entire life." She said, cutting him off. She stopped for a moment, biting her lip at the fact that she wasn't sure how she meant her statement. Was she really twenty two years old or was she only a day old? How long was her entire life?

Sensing her mental detachment, he reached out towards her hand, still cupped firmly around the bowl as if to seep some of its warmth, and gave it a light brush. "I will let you eat your supper in peace. If you need anything, let me know. You can find me in one of my armchairs that seem to float about." He said, walking off reluctantly back towards the kitchen.

He had seen her eyes and the loss of emotion within them. He knew she was in no state now to chat about food or books or any other conversational thing that popped into his head. She was willing to accept and eat his food which he took as a good sign and figured he would give her the time and solitary space she needed. When she was ready to talk, cry, or move on from her grief and confusion, he would be there.

And so, he set about making himself a bowl before sitting down at his kitchen table to eat a fine supper near a roaring fire. And just down the hall, a girl sat curled in blankets spooning up mouthfuls of comfort in silence, forgetting the pain and focusing on the delicious bits of love Bilbo had added to her meal.

* * *

A week passed by, Hayden remaining in the guest room most days. She would venture out into the hallway to the bathroom, bathing every so often and offering to do the laundry to which Bilbo would refuse. She had resorted to wearing some of Bilbo's pants but kept her tank top. She felt horrible half the time as it was and didn't feel the need to soak any more tears into his tunics or dirty them by lying around wasting breath. In some strange way she felt comfort in constantly seeing her bruises. They were the last physical ties she held to Daniel, to her death. For the most part they served as a reminder of how she had failed herself, her parents, her existence. Yet it gave her pleasure to watch them slowly slip away into oblivion, though it would take time.

Every night she had the same nightmare. The same memory of her death played over in her mind like an old stubborn VHS tape stuck on rewind. Every time she would wake up, screaming and covered in sweat which she initially thought was her own blood. She could feel his hands on her, pushing deeper and harder into her already bruised flesh. His body constantly raped her, never ceasing to show signs of mercy. Every night her head would break into a thousand shards, blood pooling out into the snow as she drifted off into nothing.

The dreams took their toll on her mentally but also physically. While dreaming it seemed she would try to run in her sleep, fight Daniel off, or even forget to breathe. She tried reasoning with herself, saying it was some sort of sleep paralysis that would go away as soon as the dreams did. Every night she was just as hopeful, just as willing to dream of her friend, her blond mystery. She longed to hear his laugh again, so steady and familiar full of renewed mirth. Though she had originally tried to discredit her fantasies and longings, she found herself holding onto the one dream she had left in her new life. Every night she was disappointed.

She didn't eat with Bilbo, which also caused her grief. She just didn't know what to say to him. He had opened up his home and heart to her and she had given him nothing but an insane, horrid story and quick greetings and thanks. She owed him so much more, and she knew that. But right now she couldn't face him as herself. She wasn't sure who that was anymore, or rather, who it should be.

She spent her days watching the sun move across the sky, the clouds painting pictures in their migrations. She didn't set a foot outside - she couldn't risk seeing another hobbit and stumbling with what to say or how to act. She didn't know what she should be telling others as it was; surely Bilbo had already made up a story for her or planned on doing so. Instead, she watched from the window in the guest room and sometimes from the parlor when Bilbo was out in Hobbiton or tending to other chores. She loved roaming his house, now finding it manageable and logistically perfect. The craftsmanship alone had her drooling when she first set foot in the home, and now she was able to take it all in with appreciation and patience.

Bilbo had left the wooden cylinder she had began carving out on a side table in the hall, either for her to meddle with were the inclination to strike or to be put away eventually. Every day she would gaze at it, fingers twitching to get to work, only to find herself broken-hearted. She knew she was capable of whittling but she just didn't feel worthy of the task. Her father had taught her to whittle, being an excellent craftsman himself. She didn't feel she could do the piece of wood justice, not while she felt such shame.

And the forest had been a safe haven for her in her youth as well as in her most recent years. It held a knowledge and home that nothing nor anyone could fill inside Hayden's heart. Each piece of wood she had whittled before had been taken with gratitude and carved with love; the action unifying herself and the forest in her mind. She was creating something beautiful with a gift from one of the most beautiful places in existence. Now she didn't feel worthy of that gift, no matter how desperately Bilbo wanted a kettle perch.

One day, Bilbo returned earlier than she had expected, and she found herself staring up awkwardly at the hobbit from one of his armchairs in the parlor, turned around to face the window. She had been enjoying the feeling of the sun on her body and face, closing her eyes and willing to let sleep take her if it so desired.

He seemed just as dumbfounded, lost in the moment as to how he should act. He held a few bundles in his arms tied with string and one very large red pouch. Setting the packages down near the door, he approached the girl with trepidation; they had not had a proper interaction in over a week and he wasn't sure how she would react to his friendliness. He was still trying to gauge her moods and overall mindset and wasn't sure if she was ready to begin engaging again or if she was just testing the waters.

He held out the pouch to her, holding it between two fingers. "I picked this up today for you."

She sat up straight, taking the pouch with both hands. "You didn't have to get me anything." She said, pulling on the tied string and opening the drawstring pouch. Inside were herbs crushed to a fine powder; she took a cautious smell. It seemed to be some sort of tea, perhaps a form of perfume for her to dust on her skin or clothes. She wondered briefly if the hobbit was trying to tell her she smelled, but quickly shooed the thought away as he didn't seem to bathe any more than she did. She reminded herself that the way of life here didn't exude cleanliness like it had in her modernized world; it was more than acceptable to go a few days without showering in lathering foams.

"It's, it's uh..." He answered, pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek and looking around the room to avoid her questioning gaze. "Well, it's a bit awkward. I'm not sure how to say it."

"What ever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad. What could this possibly be, it's not as if it's powder that will kill me or turn my skin purple." She retorted sarcastically.

The hobbit had not been expecting her response, quite different from the somber expressions and timid voice that had taken control of her lately. He felt himself relax, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. " _She isn't running away from you and she's making light of your uncomfortableness. There is no way this can go wrong."_ This wasn't so bad.

"Well, as you may have assumed, I went out into town today to grab a few things I found I needed, just bits of supplies here and there, the usual." He explained, almost running around the main point.

She nodded in answer, pulling on the strings to close the bag back up.

"And I uh, well I walked by one of the few apothecaries we have in Hobbiton and thought that you might be needing some things to get you by." There. He said it. That wasn't so hard. He gave her a polite nod and walked off towards the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

"To get me by? What exactly do I need?" She questioned, standing and following him. She hadn't the slightest idea what he meant.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks just before the kitchen table. He had thought she would have known - didn't all females know these things?

"You need, you know, herbs to stop the..." He said, turning slowly and moving his hands around as if to catch her up to speed. She looked at him like a deer in the headlights. For all she knew, he was talking about the antlers that would begin growing from her temples.

'The bleeding." He whispered, embarrassment blatant on his features.

"You mean my..." She asked openly, taken aback at how obvious yet unexpected this conversation was. She held up the large pouch in front of her face, looking from it to the small man. "What do I need herbs for?"

Now it was Bilbo's turn to be confused. How did she not know what the herbs were for? It wasn't as though she had lived under a rock, just in a different world. Surely everything worked the same.

"Where you come from, do you do anything to stop the bleeding?" He asked, squirming in his stance.

"Well, no. We just let it happen and forget about it." She answered, shaking her head like it was obvious. What else was she supposed to do?

"Oh, I see." He said. He walked over to the tea kettle and filled it with water from the well that had been pre-filled in the pumps below the sink. Silence fell over the pair, and he set to putting the kettle over the fire. He was severely unprepared and ill equipped to have this conversation.

Hayden stood there thinking for a moment, recalling things she had learned through the endless history books and lectures she had read. She remembered reading that certain herbs could stop the blood flow of a female cycle while still allowing for fertilization to take place. She could recall a few of the herbs: lady mantle, raspberry leaf, and garden sage. She figured the names would be different here, but the principle must be the same. She would add the powder to tea or perhaps food every so often and her menstrual bleeding would cease. She briefly recalled her mother doing something similar, though Hayden hadn't believed it worked and never opted to try it.

"I have heard of something similar, if my assumptions are correct." She said, sitting the pouch on the table and sitting down herself to watch the hobbit meander around his kitchen.

"In my world, people who rely heavily on natural supplements often use specific spices or herbs to stop the bleeding without causing permanent damage to their bodies. They no longer bleed but still retain the ability to bear children." She said calmly. She noticed the conversation elicit a tension in the air. She figured Bilbo was not as used to these types of conversations and had not expected to have one at his kitchen table today.

"That is correct." He said after a pause. Taking two teacups out of a cupboard, he placed them on their respective saucers and set one in front of her. He then excused himself for a moment, going into the hall before returning with a slotted box with what she assumed was assorted teas.

"You can put the herbs in anything that you consume - the kind apprentice who guided me to the right mixture told me that it is easiest to take it in liquid form with a drink." It seemed his timing was spot on, for the kettle began to sing over the fire.

He rushed over, taking it off the pot with quite a few towels before pouring her a steaming cup of water. After pouring himself some as well, he set the kettle down on a few of the towels on the table and moved to sit opposite her.

"I don't know what it tastes like," he said in a rush as if trying to convince the girl he truly was not used to these matters, "but I would assume adding it to some tea would make it better."

She nodded at him, opening the pouch.

"She told me a pinch would do, just a small one. Said this was very potent and concentrated." He said, offering her the box of teas. "I have a lemon and sage blend, a spicy orange, oh and this one is quite nice with a bit of sour toast." He said, pointing to a few of the selections.

She opted for the spicy orange and he gladly put some in an infuser of sorts, packing it in gently before setting it in her water to steep. He picked one for himself, one he had not pointed out to her and seemed to measure it diligently.

" _He must like that one. Sometimes you have to ration what you would otherwise abuse."_ She thought, a smile spreading over her lips as she watched the hobbit carry about his ways.

She hadn't smiled in what seemed like ages. It felt nice. It felt normal. Being in Bilbo's company again reminded her just how alone she had felt. She knew she didn't deserve to be so alone, and neither did the hobbit. He hadn't pressed her about her attitude or emotional state. He had even thought enough of her to buy her something he figured she needed in this world. She actually felt relief at his actions - she hadn't thought about her monthly cycle in a world where modern medicine did not exist. Though the concept did not scare her, she was still unsure as to how to handle the situation. His kindness was beyond expected, and the smile only grew at a rapid pace. It scared her and she quickly tried to wipe it off with a hurried sip of tea.

Bilbo hadn't been kidding when he said spicy orange - this tea was actually full of hot spice. It burnt her lips and her throat quite literally. The fact her nose and throat had been abused by the constant onset of tears did not help either. She tried to hide her reaction, sipping more tea to try and wash out the burning. Obviously, this didn't help. She just kept stroking the flames.

"Oh! I am so sorry I should have warned you." He said, taking the cup from the girl as she coughed vigorously. "This blend has quite the punch. I'll add a bit of honey to it."

She continued to cough as he added the honey, stirring it in and placing it before her again. She nodded a 'thanks' and set about adding the powder to the tea. Whether it was the honey, the herbs, or a combination of the two, the tea was far less blazing and her tongue was given a chance to take a breather. Her lips, however, still stung as though they had been chapped and sunburnt.

"You only need to use that about once a month or so. If you over do it, well, I'm not quite sure what will happen. But I honestly wouldn't risk it." He said, sipping his tea and letting out a sigh of pleasure as it passed his lips.

They sat in relative silence until they had both finished their teas. She felt lost, unsure as to how to move forward with him from here. Nothing had been said about her death, her dreams, or her self-exile. Was he waiting for her to say something or was he trying to ignore it? Though the moment seemed forced, she made the effort to open the door. Someone had to, and she had been sitting in self pity for too long.

"I'm sorry, Bilbo. For how I've been behaving and interacting with you. Or rather, how I haven't been." She said, opening up the conversation. She fumbled with her saucer, giving her hands something to focus on instead of his gaze.

"It's alright." He said, reaching a hand out to offer her a friendly grasp.

She took it hesitantly, not expecting his understanding and forgiving nature.

"It's not alright. You have opened up your home, no not just your home but your whole way of life to me. You have cooked, cleaned, and watched over me without so much as a few words from my end. I have woken you up with screaming nightly. I've left you alone and in silence where you could have had company and laughter. You have proved yourself to be a loyal, devoted friend and I could never ask for another hobbit as wonderful as you are. I haven't a clue why you haven't thrown me out or given up on me but I am forever grateful, Mister Baggins." She said, looking at him finally.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Miss. I understand how hard this must be for you and I hope to make the transition to life here easy. I have been worried about you, I will admit, but I did not expect you to overlook your death, your lost life, and begin anew without some sorrow and regret. You were put through a series of traumatic events, and I'm sure there's much more I don't know about and don't need to know at this point. What with the death of your parents, your guardian, and the horrible, unmentionable things that sickening excuse of a man put you through. If I had been there or were given the chance I would - the point is," He stammered, realizing he could easily go off on a tangent, "you are always welcome in my home and you always will be. There is no reason to apologize for recovering. I'm just honored that you could do so in a safe environment and under my care."

She shook her head. She couldn't believe he was being so open to her depressive nature, her sulking and screaming. Surely her nightmares had scared him just as much and given him reason to take extended naps during the day. Tears prickled down her cheeks and she didn't try to stop them.

"You are one of the strongest, most resilient people I have ever known. You are incredibly charming, obviously highly educated, and your heart is heavy with both oppression and graciousness. I would live out my life in silence and loneliness just to see you get back on your feet. Just to see you regain who you are." He said, taking both her hands in his and offering her comfort in his words.

He knew to tread lightly, for her behavior had not shown any signs of wavering over the last week. Though she had started this conversation, he would not be the one to end it by breaking down walls uninvited.

"Bilbo. That's the problem, I can't regain who I was. That's what I can't get over. I've endured so much and lived so much life yet I don't know who I'm supposed to be now. I know who I was, who I wanted to be. And I lost her. I lost her to Daniel and I'm not sure how to get her back or if I even want to. When I woke up here, in that forest, I didn't have all of this weight crushing me down and tearing me apart. I felt normal, like I had no reason to doubt who I was inside. Now I'm not so sure if I should follow that path or pick up from the one I strayed from years ago." Anger filled her voice as it fluctuated in pitch and volume. He had not seen her this animated and serious outside of how she awoke from her nightmares.

He held her hands for what felt like ages, his elbows growing stiff against the wood's edge. Her tears fell silently, and he could sense her anger rising and falling like waves as she contemplated her torn existence. He had never dealt with this sort of thing before, or so he thought at first. All his life, he had been a Baggins. He had grown up in a normal hobbit hole with normal hobbit parents and lived a quite comfortable life. He thought of his mother and her heritage, how she had loved a good party and always sought adventure in books since she couldn't get out on her own and explore the world. Perhaps he had been torn as well - striving to be a humble, settled hobbit yet yearning to be a fearless traveler, going off to lands far away and doing unexpected things. The Took side was always strong, but he had always pushed it down. Maybe he wasn't so different from Hayden after all.

"Hayden. I think I know what you're trying to say and where you're coming from." He said, breaking the silence and disassembling the tension in the air.

She shot him a look full of doubt and questioning, her eyes shining against the fire that still roared behind him.

"All my life I have lived in this hole, built in the side of the hill. I was born here, raised here, and will continue to live here until I die." He started, pausing to gather his thoughts. "Hobbits are not known for taking spontaneous holidays or taking risks. We prefer and seek out routine, comfort, and tradition. My mother, Belladonna, was a Took. The same Took's who crafted the recipe for the pie I made you your first night here. That side of my family is a cluster of anomalies." He said, shaking his head with the reminder of how his mother had been chastised in her youth. "They went on all sorts of adventures, roaming the land and getting into heaps of mischief. They weren't afraid to challenge what other people - other hobbits -" he specified, "thought of them. They didn't wish to live their lives and leave their legacies in some burrows in the ground. They knew that life was waiting for them, and they wanted to live it." He finished, a sob threatening to catch in his throat. He pushed it down, refusing to let himself become overly emotional.

"When my mother married my father, Bungo Baggins, she knew that he expected a well-rounded hobbit life. Her love outweighed any ounce of desertion she felt, but she used to tell me of how she explored the woods as a child, seeking out elves and other races. She wanted to take her life in her hands and make the most out of it and she wanted the same for me. And so, I guess my whole reasoning in telling you this is I feel sometimes that I am split in two. I want to be admired for my traditions and devotion to a hobbit way of life yet I also fight the urge to walk out that door and never come back." He said, pointing over her shoulder towards the round front door.

"I know what it's like to compete with yourself, questioning and second-guessing every action and thought that comes to mind. I have learned, though much to my disliking, that I can't separate myself into two hobbits. I simply can't. I can be one or the other or I can learn to blend the two. I've struggled with this for a long while, though I think your presence here has guided me towards that path as it is. I can't be who the world thinks I should be, yet I can't entirely be who I would like either. I have decided, as of right now in fact, that I will take a chance at discovering who I am, regardless of stipulations and expectations. I may be Bilbo Baggins, but that does not mean I am confined to that title." He finished, determination set in his voice and eyes.

She looked at him, fully realizing what he was trying to tell her. All along she had been approaching the situation as if she had two choices - resort to being submissive and weak or try living a lie by ignoring it all. Perhaps there was another choice. Perhaps she could take who she was upon waking up in Middle-Earth and let her past, her upbringing, her morality guide her to a new future.

She was alive. She wasn't dead. Her past was laced with darkness and failure, yet it was not what defined who she could be. The past could drown her if she let it, but it could also teach her how to breathe. She could use it, both the good and the bad, to shape a new woman. Pulling from the girl she was before Daniel and from the girl she was under his control, she could be unstoppable if she allowed herself to be. For the first time since remembering her demise, she realized that none of it really mattered now.

Bilbo watched her from across the table, seeing the cogs beginning to turn in her mind and the fire begin to ignite. " _Perhaps my rambling actually helped her."_ He thought, just as she began to talk.

"Whatever this is - a second chance at life or an afterlife - it doesn't really matter. It doesn't matter that I died or that I lost myself. It doesn't matter that I can't answer the question of how I got here or the fact that there probably isn't a soul in this world who can tell me. All that matters is that I have the ability to make the most of this life while I can. This is all I wanted moments before I died - to live." She said, lost in thought and detached from their conversation. She was talking to Bilbo yet she was verbally giving herself confirmation that moving on was acceptable. In fact, it was necessary. It was the only way she could live.

"I can rebuild myself. I can regain who I was and reshape who I will be." She said, looking the hobbit dead in the eyes. Her eyes held a spark in them, one he had not seen before in her.

"If I have to start from the very beginning, I will. I'll build myself back up from the ground if I have to. I'll do anything. I am not weak or afraid. And I never will be again." She said, pressing her lips in a tight line and beginning the process of forgiveness.

"No, I don't believe you will be. But then again, I don't think you ever were." Bilbo stated. He smiled at her sudden realization and break from despair. He would be here every step of the way to help her find or reinvent herself. And he had a feeling she would help him do the very same without either of them really knowing it.

It would take time, but she knew what had to be done. She had to forgive herself for her mistakes, for her ignorance, for the regrets of her past life. She had no control over her existence in Middle-Earth and she felt foolish at having already wasted a week in denial and grief. Others would have given anything for a second chance and opportunity at life and here she was wishing it all away. In a comforting motion, she mentally pushed all memories and self incriminating thoughts into a box, locking it and throwing the key into oblivion. The journey ahead was long and unsure, full of hardships and blockades no doubt. But she would get back on her feet and keep fighting. She would never give up.

* * *

After that night, she no longer feared going to sleep. She would often think of her masked man, the unknown friend, but did so with a light heart; his presence in her mind calmed her yet was not sought out of fear as it had been before. The nightmares still occurred, but she awoke with a newfound determination and triumph in her soul. The dreams had been making her weak and afraid, only fueling her lack of motivation and willpower.

Now, however, she took these feelings and let it feed her desire for life, for adventure. These memories could no longer hurt her. Daniel could no longer hurt her. She viewed them as reminders of why she needed to pursue her new life, not reminders of why she should be dead in the ground. The terror served as a reminder that she needed to stay strong and determined. She needed to live.

Over the next few weeks, Hayden became much more involved in daily life in the Shire. She left the home a few times, accompanying Bilbo to the market and on various errands. He would introduce her as his mother's niece - his cousin - from far away. He crafted a story of how her parents had died, which was true, and she was left alone in the world with nowhere to go, which was also true. Usually he was able to manage with that and go about his business, but occasionally one curious hobbit would dig deeper for answers to questions that had no doubt been floating around the Shire for weeks. Bilbo was witty and quick-tongued, avoiding their comments and condemning questions with ease.

She would smile and remain quiet, keeping to herself and admiring the people and their habits. Their craftsmanship alone was unbelievable compared to what she had seen before and their work ethic seemed to outshine the sun at times. She couldn't seem to get over the fact that they walked around over rocks and gravel without shoes; Bilbo was kind enough to buy her a pair of hard-soled slippers that let her leave the snow boots tucked away. No more unnecessary sweaty feet or odd glances from hobbits.

Instead of asking Bilbo if he needed help as she had done before, she simply started helping. Where he would leave a disheveled pile of odds and ends, she would see possibilities. She began making piles of papers, books, and other belongings that could be easily categorized and organized; his home was now filled with a constructed mess rather than a partially sorted one. She figured she could do most of the dirty work and Bilbo could go through everything when he had the time.

She set to scrubbing dish ware, polishing silver and utensils, dusting shelves and portraits, and cleaning floors. One day she was intent on cleaning every single baseboard, wiping the corners between the walls and the deep grooves of tile until they shone like mirrors. Bilbo had protested at nearly every chore she began, yet found himself enjoying her hard work. It wasn't that he didn't take pride in his home, he did, but he knew she needed something to take her mind off of all the places it could wander off to. Both the hobbit and the home looked happier than they had in a while thanks to the girl's ambition.

One day she had set to taking inventory of the pantry, much to Bilbo's protest. He kept a diligent and efficient stock, he ensured her, but his words did not deter the girl. After hours of work, she presented him with an updated list, one that reflected a different summary entirely. He frowned at first, realizing he had less than he would have hoped, but thanked the girl all the same. It seemed there was much to be done around his hobbit hole. He had overlooked quite a lot.

Hayden remained silent for the most part over these few weeks, speaking to Bilbo when she had questions or concerns with whatever task she had taken upon herself at the given moment. If it were anyone else, Bilbo would be torn apart at the control shift in the house - he was the head of this household and reserved the only right to move and control the belongings inside it. However, this was Hayden. And he knew she did this not out of malice or spite but out of the goodness of her heart. It also gave her a welcomed distraction, and he ultimately admitted to needing the help.

Though he had not expected her to be so engaged, he found himself wanting more from her. Her presence was not enough at times and he longed for conversation. He wanted to learn about her and her world and possibly teach her some things from his own. He talked quite a bit about himself and his family and life in the Shire. So much in fact, he was sure she would grow tired of hearing his voice drone on day after day. She would simply smile at him, laughing when appropriate. His talkative nature only fueled her actions more - she needed to work out her frustrations yet also needed to hear about his life. If she was to be his friend, she surely should know who he was and what he loved or loathed. When she felt she was ready, she would tell him more and open up. She just needed to regain a grip on life and her place in it.

Her willingness to help came to a halt when it came to food. He would not let her help in the preparation, cooking, or cleaning of any meal. She tried helping at first, ignoring his stern warnings yet gave up when he had effectively locked her out of the kitchen until everything was ready or finished. His stubbornness only made her try harder. It was much to Bilbo's surprise when he figured out she had continued to do this just to get a smile out of him rather than ignore his requests.

It seemed that things were getting better.

One cool, crisp morning, she had approached him over breakfast. She had not offered to help and sat herself down at the table while he prepared their oats with cream. As soon as he sat down, she requested to paint the front door. At this, the poor hobbit almost fell over backwards and onto the floor. She had been putting in far too much work around his home without any prompting on his part.

"Absolutely not." He said, taking a large mouthful of the oats and gesturing her to do the same.

"But Bilbo! You have been complaining about that door since I first stepped foot into your house. Please let me paint it. It's not as if I can chop it up with a brush." She said, refusing to eat until this matter was settled.

"No." He insisted through a full mouth.

She sighed inwardly and began eating. She knew what she had to do. She knew he had a soft spot. That door would be laid in fresh paint by the end of the week.

He told her no over a span of a few days, only to be asked again each morning and night. He was doing his best to maintain a hostly outlook towards his guest, but he soon realized that she would possibly grow to be more than that. He couldn't expect her to live here her whole life - if she so chose to - as a guest. She deserved to make this her home, and if cleaning and fixing it up helped her adjust, who was he to deny her that pleasure.

Reluctantly, he let her paint the door.

He opted to keep it green, the same shade and hue. He had quite the trouble in Hobbiton when going to the local painter and only requesting the paint, much to the fairly round painter's surprise. The family had always gone around, door to door it would seem, to paint the neighbor's doors and homes to their liking. This was the first time in what was probably one hundred years that someone did not call on his family's services but merely wanted their paint. After bartering and exaggerating a story about his distraught cousin, Bilbo was able to bring home a bucket of the green liquid to a highly jubilant and eager girl.

* * *

One night over dinner, she asked the hobbit a question that had nothing to do with chores or repairs or improvements. It caught him off guard, to say the least.

"What do you do at night, Bilbo?" She inquired, watching him muddle around the kitchen putting utensils away and reorganizing various jars and pots after having made a delicious braised chicken and tomatoes. She felt the same urge to rise and help but shook it off, wanting nothing more than to watch and remain still at the table. Every time she had leapt to her feet to help in the kitchen only to be told 'No Hayden!' she began wondering why she was so eager to help in the first place, as if not doing so would kill her.

She had unlocked the box of memories once more, something she found herself doing more often than she would have liked, searching through and deciphering her life with Daniel. Now that she was almost positive beyond a doubt that the feeling originated from Daniel's demands and actions, she was set on defying the urge. She was trying desperately to be a better friend and guest, but she needed to defy this feeling if she wanted to get back to herself again.

The hobbit looked at her startled, not expecting her comment. This was the first time she had spoken all day, save for her polite greeting this morning and an occasional 'yes,' 'no' or nod of the head. Even over the past few weeks she had hardly spoken of anything other than chores. Given what had transpired, he thought it wise to continue what he was doing and not give the girl too much attention. He didn't want to scare her off.

"Well, if I've had a long tiring day sometimes I head straight to bed. Other times I try to tidy up things that I've either put off for too long or left unfinished in my moments of absent mindedness, as you have seen firsthand. But it seems," he continued, brushing his hands swiftly together as if to signify his accomplished task, "I find myself reading regardless of how tired I am or how many things are left sitting around for me to do." He smiled a mischievous smile, as if his books could hear him confessing his obsessive nature.

"I love reading. I don't suppose you have any books from where I'm from, though. I don't think our classics are the same across dimensions. Or universes. Or whatever this is." She stammered with a sigh, knowing that there was so much to be explained to the small man in front of her but not entirely possessing the knowledge on how to do so.

She also felt utterly spent, her emotions drained with the constant contemplation of what had brought her here and what had brought her to the state she was in before her death. Her death; it was something she could not stop thinking about yet couldn't bring herself to do. She couldn't focus on it. For one thing, people don't just die and come back and for another, they certainly don't remember how they died. That knowledge was not helpful to her new chance at life nor was it answering any questions she had.

She recalled briefly of stories that talked about messing with the time line through time travel, where one could set off a chain of unfortunate events were they to discover the truth of their future. Her death was the past, though, so she disregarded any worry she had about changing the balance of things.

"You are probably right about that," he agreed, "but if you'd like to start from the beginning I still have a few books for children lying around. Perhaps we can start there and introduce heavier works down the road? That way you can gather a better sense of our world as we all do when we're introduced into it." He offered, walking towards the exit to the hall and pausing in the doorway.

"I think I'd enjoy that." She answered, rising from the table and giving the hobbit a weak smile before letting her features reflect the depressive fog that had come over her.

"Good." He said, walking through the doorway and down the hall to his mother's room.

Following him inside, she fought the urge to flop down onto the fluffy bed and roll up in a ball as she had been doing most nights. She figured she could do that when he had given her a book, so she mentally scolded herself and settled with standing behind him in wait.

He searched the bookshelf from top to bottom, having to grab a stool for the top two shelves. As fate would have it, the books he sought after were on the very bottom shelf near the end of the row. With a slight huff, he pulled three books from their homes and blew off the dust that had settled on the tops of them.

"Ah, here we go." He said, looking the small books over with reminiscence.

"Three of my favorites from childhood. 'The Oliphaunts of Far Harad: A Poem and Collection of Myths,' by Willlfrenny Bucksbook, 'The Dwarven Doors: What Not To Look For' by Norgoin Fecetfoot, and 'The Bird Who Flew Too Far But Not Far Enough' by Labella Mongolith." He finished, handing her each one as he read them off.

"I've read these. My parents used to read them to me." She exclaimed, holding the books with delicate fingers and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Bilbo followed anxiously, expecting her to shoo him off but she did no such thing. " _Perhaps her love of reading outweighs any fear she holds onto,"_ he thought.

"This one, 'The Bird Who Flew Too Far But Not Far Enough', it's one of my favorites. It's about a bird flying too far from home against its parent's wishes in order to prove itself. Only, it gets lost along the way and runs into all sorts of trouble before giving up and going home. My father always told me this story was written to explain to children that parents always know when we're ready for the world, even if we don't agree. My mother would always add that the bird should have flown farther and tried harder instead of turning around to fly back home. She would say that 'those who dare defy their elders must learn the hard way. But to truly learn, one cannot give up when things get tough.' She'd insist that thought the bird was wrong in leaving prematurely, it wasn't worth it because it gave up too soon instead of flying just a bit further." She said, flipping through the old pages and tracing her finger over images of the bird painted in ink, soaring through a parchment sky.

Bilbo stared at her in awe, partly from the fact she knew a tale of his world she should not have. He also was amazed again at how much she was opening up to him. He thought to ask, but again felt worry rising up inside him that she would close right back up. He needed to make progress with her, not problems.

As if sensing the unspoken questions, she continued. "I really don't know how this story existed in my world - I know my earth and your Middle-Earth are not the same. And if they were, I would live in the future and our account of history would be severely inaccurate. Either way, I loved it as a child. I always took away from this story that my parents would know when I was ready to leave home but expected me to try until I couldn't anymore, to see things through to the end. To never give up once I left."

"And did you?" He asked, leaning in closer in anticipation.

"Did I what?" She asked, finally looking up from the book to the hobbit. Her eyes glazed with the threat of tears, though none had fallen. Honestly she had been so lost in memory she had failed to realize his presence next to her on the bed.

"Give up. Did you ever find yourself giving up?" He asked, wondering just who this girl was in front of him. For the first time in weeks he was getting a glimpse into her life, her world.

"Though some might say I did, I didn't. I may have lost my way, but I never gave up. I fought to the death." She said, staring off into the distance with a look of determination Bilbo had not seen since she broke the silence and stepped out of her haze weeks ago. He knew how truthful her words were and took them to heart.

"Then it looks like your parents taught you well." He said, looking down at her arms and wondering why she didn't cover up the bruises or at least ask for some medicinal relief. She had been working in some of his long sleeve tunics lately, but seemed to wear the sleeveless garment when nighttime came about.

"If you'd like I can offer some other selections, perhaps ones you haven't read?" He rose to his feet, looking over the bookshelf once more.

"No, these will be fine Bilbo. I think it would be better for me to read things I'm familiar with. I'll at least get a small comfort from home with my parent's lessons and voices running through my mind." She said, clutching the books tightly to her chest in fear of forgetting her parents, her childhood. Right now those memories were grounding her to herself again.

"I think I'll turn in for the night and get lost in these." She finished, shuffling the books in her arms to lay on the foot of the bed.

"Very well." He answered, walking towards the door before pulling it behind him. "Hayden. If you need anything, don't hesitate. Please." He said, his eyes warm with sympathy and earnest.

"Thank you, Bilbo." She answered with a smile. He did care about her, that had been clear. She just had needed time to sort things out. She was thankful he had understood and held the patience he had over the last few weeks. Letting him in a little bit wasn't as bad as she had expected.

"Oh Bilbo!" She called, sitting up straighter on the bed. "Please don't shut the door."

He looked back at her as a parent would on their small child, heart full of adoration. "Of course. Goodnight Hayden." He said, before walking down the hallway towards his study to pick out a book of his own.

She gave him a mental goodnight, and set to taking off the borrowed pants before getting into bed. She began with "Oliphaunts of Far Harad: A Poem and Collection of Myths,' not recalling much of the story other than the fact it dwelled on enormous elephants. She opened the pages, flipping to the first part of the book, the poem, accompanied with sketches of the gentle giants.

 _Grey as a mouse,_

 _Big as a house,_

 _Nose like a snake,_

 _I make the earth shake,_

 _As I tramp through the grass;_

 _Trees crack as I pass._

 _With horns in my mouth_

 _I walk in the South,_

 _Flapping big ears._

 _Beyond count of years_

 _I stump round and round,_

 _Never lie on the ground,_

 _Not even to die._

 _Oliphaunt am I,_

 _Biggest of all,_

 _Huge, old, and tall._

 _If ever you'd met me_

 _You wouldn't forget me._

 _If you never do,_

 _You won't think I'm true;_

 _But old Oliphaunt am I,_

 _And I never lie._

Finishing the poem, she felt comfort and resolve wash over her. She knew the stories, but somehow they seemed to jump off the page here. Hayden figured it was because they made sense in this world; they belonged. In her world, they had been wonderful tales, but they didn't fit anywhere into society or reality like most fairytales did. Yet, to her it always seemed as though they should have fit in. It seemed no one taught their children the same morals or filled their hearts with the same myths. There was no reason to question it here - these stories were about, written in, and read in Middle-Earth.

Her reading had lulled her into a partial sleep, full of happy memories of her parents and her upbringing. She had paused the worries and thoughts and fears for the first time since she had last relaxed, finding herself again in these books of old. Only, she wasn't quite sure how she knew them. The books held words and symbols she couldn't find in any other piece of writing. She could recall never having a friend who had read the books when she was younger, and so she had told them about their contents with excitement. She never thought much of it, but perhaps her parents had come upon them in some way from Middle-Earth. She wondered if this had any connection to the strict list of reading materials her parents had set in place.

Her thoughts had lingered on the boy she remembered in her dreams, now a man, when she had drifted off into a well awaited peace. Though she silently prayed every night that she would see him in her dreams she accepted the fact that his memory was always with her. His mystery remaining unsolved and his story untold, she would never forget him. She wondered if she only dreamt about him when he was thinking or dreaming about her, if he was even real. Lost in a happy daze, she had surrendered completely to sleep's welcoming arms.

Much to her surprise, she was greeted with a golden flash and a cheeky laugh.


	4. The Flower and The Creation Story

She awoke lying in the meadow, so familiar to her yet surprisingly fresh with life. The flowers had bloomed tenfold, the forest floor covered in a blazing blanket of petals where grass and dirt had always reigned superior. The change alarmed her at first. Though beautiful, the only thing to ever change in her dream was the boy - not the surroundings.

Somehow she knew he was there without even seeing him, feeling his strong aura standing behind her. Sitting up, she turned her body to find him but just saw the golden flash of hair as he took off running, a chuckle lingering in the air where she had felt his presence.

Without questioning his motives or thinking twice, she found herself bursting through the flowers, her legs moving underneath her without hesitation. She heard his footsteps falling heavy as he ran through the trees, running in the direction of the sound without a visual to guide her. He was quick, that was for sure, but she held much more stealth.

After a few minutes of running, she heard his footsteps come to a halt just ahead. She stopped as well, her heart pounding in her head as she searched the forest for him. Was he hiding or was he just out of her sight? She chuckled inwardly at his playfulness, a smile reaching her eyes.

Taking a deep breath to calm her pumping heart, she looked up through the trees at the sun falling through the leaves and branches. The air was stretched thin yet remained thick with the smell of pine and floral perfumes, radiating off the forest floor. These woods were still the same, the trees remembering her presence after all these years. The flowers, however, peaked up at her with curiosity; they did not know this girl.

She met the flowers with an equally cautious stare, not sure if their presence was welcome or not. Surely flowers were innocent in theory, but one could always hold malicious tendencies; poison ivy was not an ugly plant but definitely brought out ugly side effects once in contact with other living beings. These flowers seemed to glow, as if the sun's light had been captured and now shone out throughout the forest floor. Tentatively, she bent down to inspect the flowers closer.

Her friend reached out towards her, a freshly plucked glowing flower in hand. His proximity startled her, but she smiled in warmth all the same. The flower seemed so delicate against his calloused fingers, the petals grazing his skin. It looked like a lily morphed with a poppy - large and spacious petals starring outwards yet maintaining a round and dainty look in a bright red hue. She took it from him, their hands never touching, and inhaled the floral scent with eagerness. If he had touched it and received no wounds or adverse effects, surely the flowers were safe.

As if having to do a double take, she realized that he had just reached out to her and they had almost touched hands. That had never happened before; usually one or the other would reach out and then the dream would end as soon as they would have met hands. She wondered if this had anything to do with the flower's presence, the only other thing that was new in the dream world.

She still couldn't see his face, just a blurred haze that seemed to envelope him. It was as if a mist followed him around, encasing him in shadow. She proposed to herself that maybe his hands were able to leave the mist and that's why they were so clear to her as they had always been. She wondered if she looked the same to him - maybe his hands were penetrating through her own fog.

A sudden realization washed over her. If he was able to break out of the fog, whether it was his own or hers or both of theirs, something could surely break into it.

Acting on impulse, she dropped the flower and stepped forward, rushing to him with subtlety. She reached out, trying to find his hands once more in the mist. She was almost there, within inches her hands would surely crash into a hard body. Staying true and steady, she met his body and her fingers became entangled in a tingling mist.

He disappeared into the atmosphere.

She looked around, expecting to find him hiding behind a tree. He was no where, silence falling over the forest. She didn't even know if she could hear herself breathing. "Wait!" She called out to the trees, as if they had taken her friend and were holding him hostage.

She was met with silence once more. It left her feeling uneasy, something she had never felt in these dreams before. Unsure as to what she should do, she squatted down and picked up the flower she had dropped.

His laughter filled the air the moment the flower was in her hand. She spun around on her heels, putting a hand out on the ground to steady herself. Thirty meters away, he was running once again, enticing her to follow him. All worries left her mind, and she stood up with ease to follow him into the wood.

She could feel herself slipping away, ever so slightly, as she ran after him. Her legs were moving but she felt as though she were flying through the air, her head becoming unfocused. As a child she had grown to learn the signs, the warnings that she would soon waken from slumber. She always dreaded it, knowing that she'd have to leave her friend. But she would return when she could, when her mind had allowed her to dream again. In a final moment, she spoke a silent promise in her mind. " _I will always return to you, for you are the only reason I have to return to my dreams."_

Her eyes fluttered open to the early morning sun just barely filling the sky with its promise of another day. She smiled instantaneously, cherishing the dream that she had just experienced before closing her eyes tight and willing herself back to sleep. The faster she could fall back asleep, the faster she could return to him. She had to, surely he wouldn't have gone far. It had only been a few minutes.

After lying in the bed for what felt like hours listening to her own breathing and the morning birds chirping about, she knew she was awake. There was no falling asleep, no going back. She grabbed a pillow and pulled it over her face, blocking out the sun and cursing it for rising so soon. If it had just waited a little longer, if she had just tried harder, maybe she could have seen his face.

She threw the pillow off to the foot of the bed and sat up with a loud groan. If only she had been able to find out more about the man before she woke up. This day was becoming frustrating and disheartening already and it had barely begun. She stretched her arms out, tossing her neck back and forth to work out the cracks and kinks. Her legs followed, ankles rolling in circles and toes wiggling.

" _I shouldn't be complaining - I just dreamt of him! This day isn't lost yet. If anything it's off to a great start."_ She thought.

For the first time in weeks she hadn't had a nightmare. She hadn't fallen out of the bed, stopped breathing, or found herself being strangled by blankets in her tossing. Her arms were still heavily bruised, but not as red and swollen looking. She pressed down on her left arm with a few fingers, wincing at the stubborn stiffness that met her in return.

For some reason, she found herself constantly trying to worsen the bruises on her arms as they desperately tried to heal. It wasn't that she didn't want to heal - she didn't enjoy hiding her bruises in public or receiving questioning looks from Bilbo from time to time. In her grief and depression, it was as if she wasn't willing to let them go, the only physical proof left of her past life and her death. Whether it was the dream that had filled her with happiness or the actual progress she'd been making with her emotions, she felt the need to give herself a pep talk in a mental effort to let her wounds heal rather than keep prodding at them.

" _My soul has been broken longer than my body has. Apparently the setbacks I've suffered and endured haven't killed me completely, but they've helped to shatter anything of worth in my heart. Yet, I'm still here. My heart's still beating. In some ways, I guess I've been waiting to heal – not necessarily unable to. I don't need to fix my soul before my body. I don't need to keep these bruises fresh. Now I find strength in the pain and redemption in the absence of it. If I'm patient and persistent enough, I can pick up the pieces of my heart and put it back together_. _I can let myself fully heal."_

The sun had begun to fill the room more prominently now, her body casting a shadow on the floor in the sun's light as she stood. Not wanting to change her clothes just yet, she reached towards the foot of the bed where she had left a robe Bilbo lent her. She stopped mid reach, noticing a small red object on the floor by the doorway.

It was a petal.

A chill ran through her body. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She rubbed her eyes lightly and blinked furiously. The petal didn't budge, waiting on the tile to be picked up. She stepped forward, wondering if she was still dreaming, and bent down to touch it with a finger or two.

It was definitely real, just as soft and delicate as it was in the dream. How in the world was it here, in this guest room? Were her dreams something more than dreams - had her friend been here? Her heart leapt at the thought of being able to transfer between the dream world and the real world, though she had no idea how. Obviously this flower had the key to her answers; its presence had allowed her and her friend's hands to almost touch.

She stood up straight, leaving the petal on the floor where she had found it. She didn't want to stir anything up by removing it completely. Her eyes were fixed on the piece of flower before her, forgetting that she stood in just her tank top and undergarments. Bilbo had walked down the hall from his study, having heard her groan and move around and knew she would be awake. Her door was open, as it always was, and so he simply stepped in with a smile.

"Good morning - Oh!" He stammered, backing out of the room into the hallway. "I am so sorry I should have knocked! I figured you would have heard me coming down the hallway." Bilbo called from outside the door.

She reached over to the robe, quickly draping it around her body. It fell to her knees, so she didn't worry about finding pants at the moment.

"It's fine, Bilbo. Come back in." She said, cinching the robe's tie around her waist.

The hobbit walked back in hesitantly, peaking at her briefly to ensure she was covered up. She met his eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The petal was gone. She looked around frantically, glancing under the bed and behind the door. She hadn't walked over it and she knew Bilbo hadn't come into the room that far.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, watching her from the doorway.

"Yes. No. Well, yes. I just seem to have lost something." She said in a panic, searching the floor once again.

"Oh, that's not good. May I help?" He answered, looking around on the floor for anything sticking out of place.

"No, that's okay. I think it's lost forever now. Which may in fact be what was supposed to happen." She answered, placing her hands on her hips and giving the hobbit a weak smile.

"Alright, if you're sure." He answered with a raised brow; how could something be intended to become lost forever? "Would you join me for breakfast?" He asked.

"Yes that would be lovely, Bilbo." She answered. "Let me just get some proper clothes on."

"Good." He said quietly, nodding and smiling to her as he left back towards the kitchen.

She hurriedly put on some clothes; a pair of brown trousers and a long-sleeve blue tunic that tied up the front. She wasn't sure what she'd be doing today, but she figured this would do for chores or an outing.

The petal had perplexed her. She wondered if she had been dreaming or half asleep or just overly tired and imagined the whole thing. Maybe her heart had wished it, making her see things in its longing for answers. What did the presence of this flower mean? It had shown up in the dream, allowed her and her friend to become closer than ever before, and been in this very room with her.

She knew her pondering wouldn't change anything. She hadn't made the flowers appear in the dream or brought one into this world. She knew she couldn't answer the burning questions with more questions, so she resolved to inquiring Bilbo about it if the opportunity came up. Otherwise, she would keep this to herself. She didn't want the hobbit thinking she was insane; she had plenty of opportunities already to make him question her sanity. If the petal or any other thing from her dream entered the world again, she would say something. Having proof would be helpful.

And so, she resolved to walking down the hallway towards the kitchen for breakfast, the petal pushed to the back of her mind. Right now she needed something to distract her. And food would do just that.

Bilbo had fried up a few eggs with butter and cheese and tomatoes. The protein was mouth-watering and the tomatoes fresh, popping in her mouth. Hayden enjoyed food here in Middle-Earth more than she had before; everything seemed to exude freshness and nutrition, practically begging to be eaten at times. She wondered to herself out loud if this was because she had died and therefore everything she experienced was that much more fulfilling. In her chewing, she hadn't realized her thoughts had been vocalized, jumping at the hobbits return of conversation.

Bilbo pipped in, "Nonsense. It's simply wholesome, home-grown food overlooked by the finest caretakers and farmers Middle-Earth has to offer; the hobbits of the Shire." He said with a smile and puff of the chest. "I grow some things of my own, as a matter of fact. These tomatoes sprouted from my dirt."

"Do you really?" She answered. She had seen his garden outside but never really took a hard look at it. She just assumed it was a floral garden, not one to produce foods or herbs.

"Yes. As a matter of fact I need to tend to some weeds; perhaps I'll do that today. I usually have the Gamgee family look after it, he's kept it up for years, but I asked for a bit of a hiatus, if you will, due to your presence here. I didn't want hobbits coming in and out of that back entrance while you slept or read or..." He trailed off, not wanting to make the conversation awkward. "Recovered." He finished, nodding slightly at finding the right word to say.

"You didn't need to do that on my part, Bilbo. I do believe you are one of the sweetest people to ever live." She said with a sincere smile, shaking her head at the notion that he was so unbelievably thoughtful.

The comment made his face turn as red as the tomatoes on his plate, reaching to the tips of his ears. "Oh." He said with a 'tsk,' brushing her comment off. He wasn't used to conversations like this with her.

"Would you mind if I helped you?" Hayden asked, scooping up the last of her breakfast onto her fork.

"Not at all! I could use the help." Bilbo said, finishing his own plate.

For the first time since her 'choremongering,' as he liked to call it, Bilbo was actually allowing her to help. He had given up telling her 'no' or trying to get her to take permanent breaks in the work. Gardening could be particularly laborious, however, and he didn't feel a guest - no matter how permanent - should have to endure such tasks. He planned on doing most of the work himself and having Hayden pile up the torn weeds and watering the plants afterwards. She would be helping, yes, but Bilbo could keep her from working harder than she needed to.

The little hobbit was never more wrong.

* * *

He had told her what he had wished her to do: pile up the weeds he would discard and see to them being properly disposed of so as to not infest any other plot of earth. When he had moved down a fair section, he wished her to water the flowers that had been weeded. She was to do nothing else but admire the beauty of it all and relax. She agreed to every term - and found loopholes around each.

Instead of simply waiting for weeds that needed to be disposed of, she went and found herself a bucket in the shed around the side of the home and started on the opposite end of the plot from Bilbo. He had protested but she simply continued her work with a smile. She kept a watchful eye on the hobbit's weed pile, rising to clean it up every now and then.

They worked on the food first, cleaning off tomatoes and tending to the cabbage leaves. She worked much faster than he had, and found herself watering the majority of the plot before he had even moved five feet. It seemed Bilbo got caught up in admiring the growth of his plants rather than ridding them of weeds.

Leaving Bilbo to finish with some of his carrots, she went around to the various flower gardens and inspected them for weeds. Most of them seemed unruly intentionally - overgrown with mountain flowers and tall grasses yet kept in a trimmed manner. Pulling a few things here and there, she set over to the large section near the back of the house. This plot seemed set up almost like food would be - each flower had its own respective row or square. She mused that perhaps he was growing these to sell or arrange and wanted them to remain in a predictable, manageable area.

She noticed one patch of flowers, small and pink, that resembled one she had studied in school: soapwort. It was used in both the Medieval era and times of pioneers to make soap and detergent. The saponin chemical in the stem was what initially made the bubbles and lather in the detergent. Hayden had created her own soap with her mother once, who was fairly familiar with the process. About a dozen or so stems were cut and placed in water, boiling for about thirty minutes, before being strained and cooled into soap squares.

"Are these soapwort? Plants that are used in making soap?" Hayden asked eagerly, hoping her assumptions were correct.

"As a matter of fact, they are, though they aren't called soapwort. I've forgotten what they're called at the moment; usually we just refer to them as the soap flower." Bilbo replied, pulling a tough weed from the soil with a huff.

"Do you use them for soap or just for decoration?" She asked, getting to work on a few weeds that had planted themselves near the flowers.

"I use them for soap on occasion, but I tend to sell them in the local market. They do make a nice filler, don't they?" Bilbo replied, smiling at the girl with a sideways glance.

The sun had reached the middle of the sky, indicating it was nearly noon or later. They had been working for hours now, grunting and breathing heavy at the stubborn roots. Bilbo would comment on his plants and how they were fairing having gone without constant weed patrol. Aside from that, Hayden worked in relative silence. It felt good having the dirt beneath her fingers, renewing her connection once again with the earth.

She had always wanted to have a garden in the cabin she and Daniel had lived in. At first he was supportive of the idea, letting her chop the pieces of wood to be used as siding for the plot and offering to pick up seeds on his trips into town. After a weeks worth of hard work, she had built the plot and tended the soil, readying it to harbor new life.

Flowers had grown around the outer edges, pouring over the wood. On the inside she had planted vegetables that were non-intrusive; she didn't want roots fighting for limited space. After a couple months, Hayden was proud of her little piece of earth. It had been hers, built with sweat and love. Daniel had destroyed it one night coming home drunken and stomping all over the thing. That was the last time she had ever gotten mad at him, the last time she had stood up for herself without suffering the consequences. She tried to fix the mess but nothing seemed to grow quite right after that. Everything, it had seemed, was thrown off balance.

She stopped in her digging and uprooting. Before her was a small patch of red poppy-like flowers. They weren't glowing as they had been in the dream, but they were the flowers all the same. She felt a breath catching in her throat as she reached out to touch a petal with shaking fingers. Every resentful thought of Daniel washed away with an overwhelming sense of astonishment.

"Those are some of my most prized plants. Fumellar, as they are called by the elves. Very rare, very hard to come by. I believe it was my mother who received them from Gandalf, who brought them back to the Shire to be planted." Bilbo commented, noticing the girl's sudden halt in weed pulling. He assumed she thought the flowers to be lovely, which they were, and wanted to inspect them much closer.

Hayden didn't respond, dropping her hand and continuing to stare the flowers down as if by watching them they could help answer all her questions. Bilbo got back to work, trying to hide his worry at her lack of enthusiasm. For hours she had worked along side him, listening to him muddle with himself and his plants. She usually stayed intent and focused in all her chores; her behavior was odd and slightly out of character.

She blinked a few times as a chill washed over her body. Perhaps she had saw them in the garden before and her mind had thought to include them in the dream. Though unlikely, as the dream had remained constant for nearly twenty or so years, she tried to make herself relax. This could be an opportunity to ask Bilbo about the flower.

"You said this flower is elvish?" She asked, looking over at the hobbit now sweaty and baking in the heat.

"Yes. Well, not entirely. They are from elven lands, received on one of Gandalf's journeys. I believe that their legend reaches far back into history. I have a book on them inside; perhaps we should take a break and I can give you a more exact answer." He said, standing and wiping the dirt from his knees.

She didn't need a break but saw the little hobbit was due for one. She was used to chores and working outside and she assumed that since Bilbo had a neighbor tend to his garden, he was not used to working under the hot sun for so long. She rose to follow him back into the house, eager to hear more about the flowers. She would take to heart anything the hobbit had to tell her about these blooms.

The pair shuffled inside the hobbit hole, leaving their spades and rakes just inside the door on the coat bench. He had poured each of them a glass of water and left off towards the spare room, the one covered in dust and towering books. Returning to her in the kitchen after a few minutes, he set a fairly large and old book on the table. It smelled of dust and paper, seemingly beaming with the history it held within its pages.

He cautiously opened up the book to the back of the index, looking for the flower in an endless sea of words. He mumbled to himself as he searched, reading out names of what she assumed to be other plants before finally finding the one they were looking for.

"Ah, here we go. Fumellar. Section eight. Page four hundred and twenty six." He flipped through the book with gentle haste.

Coming to the page, he read on in silence. Hayden could see a sketch of the flower near the page of words and wanted desperately to read herself. Without knowing it, she had stood to peer over the table at the book in the hobbit's hands.

Bilbo looked up quickly, realizing the girl was most likely left in suspense. He hadn't the slightest idea why she held such interest in this flower, particularly over the rest of his garden, but though it best not to ask. He enjoyed reading and researching things as it was, so it became a welcomed task.

He set the book back down on the table, turning it to face both of them.

"It originated in the Gardens of Lórien in Valinor, a homeland of our creators and superiors." He said, pointing to the section of the page that discussed the plant's etymology. "It is said that the flowers glow in the Gardens, though they obviously don't do that here."

The girl looked at him with eyes full of enchantment and yearning. She obviously knew nothing of Middle-Earth's history or culture, and so the origins of this flower were a mystery to her. As if speaking of their own accord, her eyes begged him to explain.

"You see, Middle-Earth was created by the Valar who were a part of the the Ainur. The Ainur were created by a being called Eru; I believe the elves refer to him as Ilúvatar. He also created men and elves and hobbits and, well, the world itself. The Valar resemble spirits, in a way, though they are physical beings who live far away to this day. They reside in the Undying Lands, a place reserved for immortal beings. Obviously I nor anyone I know have been there, but that's what the tales have told for centuries. That is why I said this flower is so rare - it may have come from the elves who live in Middle-Earth, but it originated in a place no hobbit has ever stepped foot nor ever will."

She shook her head lightly, trying to follow along. The flower's place of origin and rarity made sense to her in the context of things, but these spirit creatures were something she hadn't been expecting.

"So...these Valar are real? They're real beings not spirits?" She asked with a scrunched up face. Though the religions she was used to held their convictions and followers, there was such a variety that almost always led to tension and debate amongst others. She wondered if Middle-Earth was like this or if all its inhabitants believed in the same creation story without question.

"Well, of course they are. They created our world and helped to rid it of evil before the First Age. One of their comrades had grown apart from them and sought to spread his darkness as far as it would reach, even going as far as creating dark creatures. I believe his name was Melkor or Meldor or something like that." He finished. He wanted to look in one of his other historical books lying around but though it best to stay focused on the flower. That was, after all, the reason they had come inside and were having this conversation. He was not turned off at the thought of it turning into a history lesson, however.

"So this is something you believe? Does everyone believe in it, in this creation myth?" She answered, partially forgetting about the flower for a moment.

Bilbo looked at the girl as though she had lost her mind. He knew she was just learning of the creation for the first time, but her statement came across as though she expected him to be telling her some bed-time story.

"Yes. Of course, everyone does. All of Arda knows the story and believes in the telling of it. Why would you expect otherwise?" He answered, crossing his arms on the table.

"Arda?" She questioned suddenly.

"It's where we are, where Middle-Earth is. Arda is the entire world, as it were. Middle-Earth is simply a section of it. Not many others aside from elves have ventured farther." He answered quickly, wanting an answer as to why she would so easily offer doubt to his retelling of history.

"Oh, that makes sense. Well where I'm from, there is hardly ever a religion that goes unchallenged. There are plenty of creation stories and beliefs, even a belief that there was no creation. All these religions clash against one another and the people who believe in them find themselves in debates over what really happened, who really existed, and what religion is right." She answered.

"Religion. I'm not sure I'm familiar with that term though I gather it follows a creation story. How can people have so many and not agree on a single one or even throw the idea out the window entirely?" He answered, eyes full of befuddlement.

"Yes, religion is like a creation story. There's many other aspects to it like teachings, morals, practices, traditions, but that's besides the point right now. Where I come from it's normal to have many differing stories trying to explain the same thing but it seems that here you only have one. Is that correct?" She answered, brow raised.

"Well, yes. If there's a soul out there who doesn't believe in the tale, I have yet to meet him. A lot of people don't take interest in it like I have, I must admit. Most learn of Eru who created everything and the Valar who in turn created Arda; these are the concepts we all learn about as children. I suppose it's more of a retelling of our history than it is any sort of creation legend. We hear it and take it as historical fact. But, as it would seem, history becomes too bland or unimportant as time passes on." He finished, thoughts lingering on the fellow hobbits who didn't understand his own passion for history.

Hayden nodded her head in agreement; she knew all too well how quick others were to wave off history books and documentaries as boring and useless. She had found glimpses of herself and her family in the histories she had studied so she knew the power it could hold. This creation tale of the world, Arda as Bilbo had said, was no different. She didn't doubt that it could hold an endless number of possibilities for her desirous heart.

"You wanted to know about the flower," Bilbo began, pulling the book closer between them, "and as I had mentioned before, it grew in a garden. But not just any garden." He said, holding a finger up. He continued on, reading directly from the page. "One of the most beautiful places in Adra, the Gardens of Lòrien were placed upon forest groves, flowers, silver willows, fountains, and lakes. Within the Gardens was Lorellin, the tree-shadowed lake. Not far from its shores lay a small dwelling surrounded by patches of Fumellar. Amongst these flowers, Valar and Elves alike came to consult healing, rest, and refreshment, releasing their oppression and burdens from the world. The scent of the Fumellar aided in their relaxation, enduring a dreamlike slumber so potent, one could dream while remaining awake. Thus, the Fumellar was known by another title, 'The Flowers of Sleep,' and were sought after by many wishing to gain a different perspective on life and the possibilities it could hold."

A flower of sleep. Hayden's mouth practically fell open to the floor. Her eyes grew wide with realization. The flower had altered the dream because it was made to do so. How it had found its way into her dreams she hadn't the slightest idea. It's proximity to her in Bilbo's garden may have something to do with it, but she couldn't be sure. Seizing the moment, she figured Bilbo might have the answers.

"What do you know of the flower's abilities? Is this a true telling of history or is this just something you tell children to fill their eyes with wonder?" She asked.

"I don't know anything, to be quite honest. All I know is where they came from and what this book says." He answered, gesturing to the book with his head and slightly shrugging his shoulders. "Why do you ask?"

Discouragement consumed her in an instant. If this hobbit, this walking encyclopedia of all things Middle-Earth, couldn't confirm the flower's abilities, what did she really have to go off of? If he had confirmed her suspicions, she would have willingly told him of her dreams and the petal on the floor this morning. But now she felt as though the whole thing would come off as extremely unbelievable. Then again, he had believed her when she told him of her death and rebirth. Maybe this wouldn't go as horribly as she expected.

After a long pause, she spoke. "I've had this dream since I was a little girl. I'm in a forest admiring the scenery and I'm joined by someone, a boy." She said, a blush threatening to cover her cheeks at the thought of him. "We end up chasing each other through the forest, laughing and enjoying each other's company. At one point or another, we try to reach for each other but we never touch. Then I usually wake up." She said resting her head in her hands.

"That sounds like quite a pleasant dream, for the most part." Bilbo said, unsure as to why the girl before him seemed so solemn over it.

"It is. Only, these flowers, the Fumellar, were never in my dream before last night. Before last night everything in the dream had remained the same for nearly my entire life. The boy had aged with me, almost like we were growing up together, but the forest and the surroundings never changed at all. Last night the ground was covered in red, glowing flowers." She responded, frustration evident in her tone.

"I fail to see why that's such a bad thing. Though ironic, it doesn't mean your dream was full of darkness or despair. Perhaps you saw them in my garden and subconsciously you dreamt of them." He offered, glancing over the page in the book once more in case he had skipped anything of importance.

"No it wasn't dark. But nothing had changed _ever_ before, then suddenly this strange flower appears. And the strangest part was the dream played out differently. I was still chasing the man but at one point we both stopped. He picked a flower to give to me and I took it from him. We never touched, but we were able to get closer than ever before without the dream coming to an abrupt halt." She said, watching him trace his finger down the page. She couldn't believe how she was rambling, as if getting all of this out in the open was lifting some sort of burden she hadn't known she carried.

"That is odd. I can't explain why now, why the flowers. But I still don't believe the dream was negative in any way." Bilbo said, expecting the girl to relate this dream to her nightmares. He was relieved she hadn't had the nightmare last night. He had noticed a steady decline in her screaming and sudden outbursts in the middle of the night, but he didn't know it was due to other dreams taking hold.

"Bilbo." She said, staring him in the eye and trying to relay the seriousness of the situation.

He peered back at her utterly lost, confused at what was so important that he had missed in their conversation. "Yes?" He asked nervously.

"The dream wasn't dark or scary. That's not what I'm trying to say. The difference in the dream alarmed me, yes. But what I saw when I woke up was...unnerving." She finished with a light breath.

"What did you see?" He asked in worry, still sure that she would begin telling him something related to Daniel.

"On the floor was a petal. A petal from one of the flowers." She said, eyes searching his for any sort of recognition in the petal's appearance. Perhaps he had brought the flowers inside and a petal had fallen off.

"Are you sure?" He asked, disbelief in his eyes.

"Yes. Very. I thought I was dreaming or seeing things for a moment but it didn't move or disappear. I even touched it - it was soft and delicate just as in the dream. Just as in your garden." She said, almost in a whisper. "When you came in it disappeared somehow. I figured maybe it had gotten trampled on or blown under the bed. That's what I was looking for."

A thoughtful look passed over the hobbit's face. He knew Hayden wouldn't lie, especially something so trivial regarding a dream and a flower, but he didn't feel equipped to handle this situation. He had never looked much into his dreams, how peculiar they may be. He didn't have the answers to her dreams and her dream manifestations. He had his books, and even this one didn't give them a clear answer. He wasn't sure he had one that would.

"Well, seeing as it is the dream flower, perhaps it does hold some sort of dreamlike quality. Perhaps they are an extension of the Valar's powers over Middle-Earth." He said after a long moment of pondering. "They are in my garden, quite close to your end of the house. And you were in desperate need of some sort of dream salvation. Those nightmares seemed ruthless. Maybe the flowers show themselves in times of great need?" Bilbo was grasping at air, and he knew it, but he doubted Hayden would have a better explanation.

"That's what I was thinking, but I wasn't sure. It seems to make sense." She said with a nod. "I wonder if they'll bring me to the same place, to the same dream, if I have them in my room." She said, more to herself than the hobbit. She didn't honestly believe that the hobbit would let her pluck one of his rare wizard-gifted flowers.

"Why don't we put a stem in some water tonight and see what happens?" He said, closing the book with a loud thump and smiling at her.

"Really? You'd let me do that?" She said, her pitch raising slightly in tone.

"Of course." He said with a slight chuckle, rising from the table. "Let's go finish pulling those weeds for now."

And with that, he set off towards the door, leaving the book on the table in the parlor. Hayden smiled at the book, knowing it had now found a new home for god knows how long. She followed him back outside, grabbing their tools, and set to work finishing the flower garden that ran the length of his home.

They had just finished watering all the plants and were standing near the front door admiring their work. The sun had begun to make its way towards the horizon and cast a beautiful orange twilight over the sky. Shoulder to shoulder, both felt a sense of accomplished pride hit them at the sight of the polished plots.

"I do believe we have outdone ourselves. Though the term 'we' is used loosely seeing as you went and did most of the work." Bilbo said with the shake of his head and a smile. "It looks lovely. Thank you for your help, Hayden."

She peered down at him, expecting to see his eyes cast over the plants. Instead, they were beaming up at her with a renowned sense of appreciation. She couldn't help but return the gesture, a smile quirking up on her face.

"You're welcome, Bilbo. And don't give away all the credit, you helped quite a lot."

"Nonsense." He said with a 'tsk' and a wave of the hand.

He walked down the steps and around the house towards the flower garden at the back. Hayden followed intently, expecting him to be leading her to the back entrance to begin some other chore or unfinished task.

Instead, Bilbo had leaned down with a pair of garden shears and swiftly cut off one of the Fumellar stems. Standing up straight, he held it out to her with a smile.

"To good dreams." He said, handing it over to her.

She simply smiled in return and breathed in the flower's scent. It was so incredibly delicious yet light, like the feeling one gets when biting into a crisp, juicy apple. For the first time since she had lived in this world, she felt truly happy. She had put in a hard days work alongside someone she regarded as a wonderful friend. She had finally found some answers, though they weren't definite. And now she was filled with renewed hope that she might have found a secure, concrete way to return to her dream land, her dream friend. Middle-Earth was feeling more and more like home.

They made their way back to the front door, Bilbo commenting at how good the fresh paint looked on the wood, before slipping inside. As both of them were tired, Hayden offered to slice some cheeses and fruits and have a simple dinner with bread and tea. At first Bilbo protested, insisting on making a large supper as a reward for the amount of work they had put in. Hayden ensured him she didn't need it, and after scratching his head in the doorway to the pantry for a moment, he agreed that her suggestion was more than fine.

After they had nibbled and discussed gardening techniques, they sat in happy silence. Bilbo rose to throw a log on the fire. "You don't need to put another log on. I'm sure you want to get back to one of your books before bed." Hayden said.

She had grown to adore the hobbit's quirks and tendencies, his obsession with reading being one of them. He seemed to read multiple things at once, setting a book down to do something else and returning only to grab a different book and pick up where he had left off in that one. Sometimes he sat with multiple books balancing on his legs and arms.

"Well, I uh...I" He stammered, as if his agreeing to her statement would be too embarrassing yet disagreeing would bring insult to his very character.

"I'd like to read too, if you don't mind." She added, picking up on his nerves. She noticed he didn't quite like being put on the spot. The limelight wasn't a place she admired either.

"Really?" He said, setting the lone log back down on the floor. "What would you like to read? I have some more children's stories if you'd like."

She thought for a moment, seriously contemplating whether or not conjuring memories of her childhood would do her any good. On one hand she wished to relieve some of her cherished times with her parents, but on the other she didn't want to be reminded of their absence or any of the events that had taken place after.

"Do you have any history books on Eru? Or the Valar?" She questioned, excitement bubbling inside of her at the thought of reading some of Middle-Earth's history. She knew she had the basic story down but there had to be much more to it than the hobbit had revealed.

"As a matter of fact, I do. It may take a moment to locate some of them, but don't worry." He said, rushing off. She followed him eagerly down the hall.

They checked his spare room, full of old dusty things. He found one tale of Yavanna, the Vala of all things nature, but nothing else. They continued on into the smoking room which, just as Bilbo had expected, was not full of anything historical other than tales of wars and battles to which Hayden rejected. They had made it halfway down the hall to his study when he stopped mid step and spun around towards the parlor in a jog.

"I've just remembered!" He called back to the girl still standing in the middle of the hall.

With a shake of her head, she followed the hobbit back to the parlor with the book clutched in her hand. Surely one book would do for now, but she didn't deny herself any other options were there any.

After moving around stacks of books and papers, he finally came to what he was looking for. She recognized it immediately from when she had organized the hobbit's disarray of things, which was now very much a tornado once again. It was an old looking book that showed little wear - dust and age seemed to have touched its pages more than any hand. The cover was dark blue like the ocean, gold symbols and writing displayed on the front.

"I saw this book the other day; what is it? I can't read these symbols." She said, tracing a finger over the raised lettering.

"That is a book on Aulë, one of the most inventive and notable Valar." The hobbit replied, looking around as if suddenly realizing how much of a mess he had just made in his pursuit of the book.

"What makes him so special?" She answered, cracking open the book to make sure she could read the contents. She wasn't sure how she was able to read the language here, though she was sure there were many languages. This must have been a common tongue for most of the hobbit's books were written in it. It was something she hadn't thought much about, taking it for granted unintentionally.

"Aulë created the dwarves." Bilbo replied with emphasis on each word. He was enjoying Hayden's reactions, feeling as though his knowledge actually held power instead of annoyance as it had with so many others he tried to teach or inform.

"Wait. I thought Eru created all living beings, even the Valar which aren't considered equal races to everyone else but are beings." She answered, confusing herself slightly and saying everything slowly as if to ensure she was getting it all right.

"Yes, Eru created most beings and races _except_ for the dwarves - and a few others. And also orcs and trolls - those were created by the evil, rogue Vala I mentioned earlier. But he did create the Maiar, who are part of the Ainur but not the Valar." He finished in a quick breath.

"The my-who?" She answered, trying to keep up with everything.

"The Maiar. I can explain later or we can find you a book on it if you like." He said, waving the issue way with his hand.

"Okay, that can wait for another day. But why did Aulë create the dwarves - did Eru not want to?" She asked, curious as to why the dwarves were made so separately. If the majority other beings made outside of Eru's power were those of malicious intent - the trolls and orcs - she wasn't so sure if she liked these dwarves.

"That, my dear friend," he said as he tapped a finger on the cover of the book, "you should read for yourself. I will be right back." And with that, he left towards his study, no doubt to find a book or two. Or three.

She sat in one of the armchairs in the room, scooting it closer to the fire. She wasn't cold by any means, but the fire created such a pleasant atmosphere she felt she needed to quite literally engulf herself in it.

Bilbo returned later, five or so books teetering on one another. He set them on the floor next to the chair opposite Hayden and went into the kitchen to make some tea. He brought her a cup, spicy orange with honey just as she liked, and they sat together with their feet stretched out towards the fire.

Though the phrasing and structuring of the book was different than what she was used to, she thoroughly was enjoying it. It talked of Aulë and his wife Yavanna - ironically the other book she had found - regarding their deeds in Arda and their characteristics. At the brief mention of the Ents Yavanna had made, Hayden wanted to crack open the other book and read about these towering trunks with limbs. She was torn - she wanted to keep reading but also couldn't believe such a being would exist. She found herself picking up the other book, flipping to the index, and looking up the section on the Ents. Bilbo had peered up at her from his own book with a smile in his eyes. She smiled at him openly, now realizing why the hobbit seemed to go from book to book.

After containing her awe and fascination to muffled gasps, she switched back to the book on Aulë. She read on and on, admiring his smithing qualities but also his love of creating. As the master of the earth itself, he was born to create and build with his hands, forming the mountains of Arda and the vessels that held the sun and moon; from this love of crafting came the dwarves. Built with hearty bodies and spirits, they were made to be stubborn and unwavering, traits that would keep them far from Melkor's heinous grip.

Aulë also created the dwarves out of impatience with Eru, for he had not allowed his own children - the elves - to walk the earth when it seemed Melkor's hate was only growing stronger. In the growing darkness, Aulë wished to begin feeding life back into the world and thought to create the dwarves; Eru was displeased with Aulë's haste. Aulë repented, pleading he wanted nothing more than to do what he was made to do, to create from the earth. Eru spared his creations, giving them consciousness and pure life, but reigned that they would not awaken until after the elves had. Because of this, the dwarves were considered to be Eru's adopted children, having been created by Aulë but given true life by Eru. The Seven Fathers of dwarves awoke nearly a century after the elves had roamed Middle-Earth.

This fact surprised Hayden, and she felt herself forming a bond with the race. They had been born once only to have been taken and reborn again under someone else's command. She wasn't sure who - if anyone - had brought her here, but she still felt as though she had endured something similar to the dwarves' creation and births. She felt ashamed at having judged the dwarves to be evil creatures; they were simply misunderstood and sought to find their true place in Arda. Something she found herself trying to do herself.

Not wanting to read any further with her eyes growing heavy with sleep, she grabbed one of Bilbo's various papers on the floor and stuck it in between the pages as a bookmark. It was a sketch of the front entrance to Bag End, most likely drawn by Bilbo himself. It was quite good, and Hayden told him so before setting the book on the chair and patting the hobbit on the shoulder.

"Goodnight, Hayden. Your flower is on the table for you." He said, not looking up from the book that was casting a shadow on his face from the fire.

"Right, goodnight Bilbo." She said, slipping out of the parlor and into the kitchen to grab her flower in the small glass vase.

She walked back to her room, setting the oil lamp on the dresser and the flower on the nightstand. She undressed quickly into her tank top, leaving her clothes on top of a chest for tomorrow's use. Turning out the lamp, she climbed into the covers and snuggled in with ease.

The sun had drained a fair amount of energy from her body, and the day had been quite long and tiresome on the mind, what with her constant pondering of the flower and the dream. She felt like things were starting to come together, to make sense in ways she had not expected. She understood a lot more about this world than she had before, wanting to become connected in every way possible.

As she let the welcomed escape from consciousness take her, she savored the fact she hadn't worried about the dreams to come. Though they didn't scare her like they initially had, she still regretted waking up in the middle of the night and hated waiting for her death to replay once more. Now she had simply gotten into bed and thought about the day, about the possibility of seeing the man in her dreams. She looked over at the flower in the moonlight and could have sworn she saw it glowing. She quickly fell into a trancelike sleep, comforted in the fact that she might finally receive some answers.

"Oh, confoundit! What shall happen next? I suppose I shall run out of water amidst a fire or tear my pants and be out of thread."

He had just left the bathroom, realizing he was almost out of soap when he went to wash up and decided to leave it for Hayden should she need it. She was putting in a lot harder, dedicated work than he lately around his hobbit hole, much to his protest, and deserved to wash much more than he did today. He would have to run into town to pick up soap along with some extra thread, just in case. A hobbit's life exuded comfort, and what was more comfortable than having supplies at the ready if need be?

He stood in the kitchen filled with early morning sunlight, scratching his chin and staring at the fireplace. He had checked the kitchen, the sitting room, the bedrooms, even the bathroom, before finally realizing he was out of firewood. He had full, towering trunks resting in the shed around the corner amidst his gardening spades and rakes, but he had not planned on chopping any wood, so he had not called upon the arborer, Mister Oakbottom.

A carpenter and expert in all things wood, Gerold Oakbottom had been offering the Shire his arboretum services since Bilbo could remember. He was rather busy, however, as his services were pined by the other hobbits of the Shire and surrounding areas. One had to request the chopping, carving, or removal of wood quite in advance; Bilbo hadn't put in his quarterly request.

"What's the matter?" Hayden asked, pulling the robe Bilbo had loaned her tighter around her waist and stepped into the kitchen to smile at the hobbit in good morning.

"Oh, good morning Hayden. I did not expect you to be up so early. I uh, I seem to be out of firewood already. I hadn't placed my request with Mister Oakbottom and I'm afraid he's rather busy as of late. I haven't chopped wood in quite a long time," he confessed with a chuckle, a concerned and quite worried look returning to his face as he looked at Hayden. "And chopped wood fetches a high price, though I could pay it. I would much rather not, but considering the circumst -" he continued, being cut off by Hayden with a light laugh.

"I'll chop some wood for you, Bilbo. Just let me get some food in me and I'll get to it." She stated, walking over to the counter to grab a roll Bilbo had made a few nights before and reaching up to a shelf for some raspberry preserves.

"Miss Hayden, that will not be necessary! You are my guest, surely I cannot let you do heavily laborious chores around my home when I am quite capable of dong so myself! You've done quite enough already." He stammered, taken back at her willingness to help but also at her friendliness this morning.

They had shared quite a many conversation over meals lately, yet she usually took longer to warm up to him. This was the first time she had offered any sort of conversation on her part. She was even helping herself to food, something he had suggested for many a night and morning when she had grown hungry but did not ask for food. " _She's finally making herself at home,"_ he thought to himself quite triumphantly.

"Really, it is no trouble at all," she protested, licking her lips and taking a small bite of her roll. "I chopped firewood at home all the time," she managed between bites. "Besides," she continued, her eyes glinting at Bilbo with a nod to her roll, "if I don't chop more firewood, you can't bake any more of these delicious beauties. They are absolutely perfect, I don't know how you do it!" She finished, packing nearly half the roll in her mouth with a swift gesture, chewing fast and patting Bilbo on the shoulder.

"It's a family recipe, from the Took side, that is." He responded after her.

"Well, no wonder. First the pie and now the rolls. I'm beginning to think you've been holding out on me Mister Baggins." She replied with a quick wink and a winning smile, laughing at her own behavior and growing slightly red in the cheeks.

Her drastic change in attitude surprised him, and he simply watched her leave the kitchen with a smile, deciding she could spend the day chopping wood if she wished. He was just happy to see her up and about of her own accord, having found a seemingly newfound desire to interact and play an active part in her new life here.

She could do anything she wished, quite frankly, but knowing her independent tendencies he figured arguing about doing chores was the last thing he should do, especially considering she had been tidying around the hobbit hole as it was. He figured she had slept well, possibly having the dream once more, and would ask her about it when she returned.

She emerged half an hour later, her auburn hair tied up neatly in a bun on top of her head with a strip of leather. She wore her clothes from the day before, simple brown trousers and a light blue tunic tucked into them. Her snow boots were rather hot, but she had little faith that the slipper-like shoes Bilbo had gifted her would protect her from the rouge swing of an axe. Discomfort was much better than dismemberment.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in another. She sat down across from him with a light plunk, her boots hitting the table's legs louder than she had expected.

"Ah, Miss Hayden. I forgot to ask, how did you sleep? Did the flower help?" He asked, setting the book down and placing a finger over the place in the page he had been reading.

"I slept beautifully. And yes, it did." She said, a giddy excitement in her voice. "I had the same exact dream - the flowers were there. I found him and we started running like we always do. He stopped and picked up a flower, handing it to me. Only, when I went to take it from him we still didn't touch. I'm not sure the flower can ever make that happen, but it certainly has caused the changes I experienced." She said, running her hands over the wood of the table.

Bilbo's assumptions had been correct. Her cheery attitude was due to her satisfying sleep. "That is brilliant! I haven't a clue how it works but I suppose we shall see as time goes on." He responded with a smile.

"Well, that's the thing." She said, pausing her wandering fingers on the table so they were splayed out. "The flower wasn't in the vase this morning. It wasn't on the floor or in the bed. It was just gone." She said with a sad smile, hoping the hobbit wouldn't be too mad at it's disappearance.

"That is very strange. It must manifest in and out of your dreams or...well I don't really know." He finished, blinking in the rapid thoughts running through his mind.

"Neither do I. But I know how much those flowers mean to you, and I'm not going to harvest all of them for nothing. I'd like to do more research on the subject, if I can." She said.

"That's very kind of you. Though I would help you in any way you pleased, I do wish to keep my collection intact, especially with those flowers." He said, closing the book with its marker in place. "I'll gladly help you search for more answers."

"Thank you." She said, smiling back at him. "How much wood would you like me to chop, Bilbo?"

"Hayden I really do want to thank you again. After I have a quick smoke, I'll be headed out to town to get some food and other supplies and I'll see about getting Mister Oakbottom or possibly someone else to chop more firewood. For now, I think one log will suffice, just in case I can't get anyone to help for a day or two." He finished, sipping on his tea and smacking his lips as he set the cup down.

"Bilbo, like I said, it really is no trouble. Why seek out someone else who you'll just have to pay when I can easily, and willingly, do it myself? It's the least I can do. Think of it as my share of the rent for now," she finished, smiling to the hobbit who looked at her quizzically.

"Your...your rent?" He asked. "I'm sorry, but I do believe our cultural differences are at play at the moment, for I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh," she began, "my room and board. Earning my keep, I suppose you'd say."

Bilbo sat up straighter, shaking his head with seriousness. "Miss Hayden, that is not necessary in the slightest. You do not have to earn your position here nor will I ever expect that of you."

"Still," she protested, "why pay someone else to do it when I'm standing here at the ready?"

They looked at each other for a few moments, Bilbo finally giving in and nodding to the girl. He knew there would be no protest he could give to stop her from accomplishing a task. He had proved that to himself yesterday with the garden. She was ferociously stubborn and strong willed.

"Alright, but if you grow tired please come in and rest." He let out with a defeated sigh.

"I will," she agreed, "and I'll chop more than just one log. You won't have to worry about firewood after I'm through, though you may want to see about getting some more logs to restock."

"Yes, yes I will." He answered, mentally taking stock of the various goods he'd need to see about later in the market. "Thank you, Hayden." He managed, as she turned to see to her task, the bun on her head bouncing ever so slightly with each step.

"The axe is in the shed, near my gardening tools!" He called out to her, hearing a cheerful acknowledgement from her before his door opened and shut lightly behind her.

" _Very peculiar, that one is."_ Bilbo thought to himself, as he looked back down and opened his book to finish the page before gulping down his tea, rising from the table, and scurrying off towards his chamber to dress and set out for the day.

Little did either of them know just how peculiar this day was going to be; firewood was the least of their problems.


	5. The Brothers and The Great East Road

It wasn't the birds that had awoken him. It wasn't the crackling and popping of the firewood that had ceased to burn for hours. It wasn't the snoring coming from across the room or the sounds of people rummaging around in the early hours of morning. It had been the dream. It had been the girl.

He had grown accustomed to the sound of her breathing, heavy and determined as she had chased after him. Hearing her exasperation only fueled his ego further, giving him encouragement to keep up the winning chase. He knew how she moved through the forest, like a leaf dancing on the wind without so much as a ruffle. She moved like nothing he had ever seen, as though she carried the gracefulness of an elf while maintaining the stature of a dwarf. It enticed him, leading him to dip and duck between trunks just to get a glimpse of her rush by. He never saw her face, only the blur of a fiery stream of hair. He could never touch her, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know her name; it kept him up at night.

He would reach out to her every time, trying to make contact. Yet she seemed too caught up in the chase, in the routine-ness of the dream. There had been moments he thought she was just that - a figment of his imagination stuck on repeat in his yearning for happiness, companionship, or even a break from his laborious life. But he knew this was different; he had been dreaming of this girl since he could remember. They had grown in age and maturity as the dreams had continued onward, plaguing him with a glimpse into a future he could never have.

This time the dream had been different. He had always found her in a meadow of spring flowers full with dew and crisp air. The physicality of the forest remained the same - the trees surrounded the clearing and a beautiful golden light filled the air. But now there were glowing red flowers everywhere - they seemed to roam the earth for miles and miles. Apart from the aging girl, the dream had never changed. Flowers weren't that threatening, but the new addition still left an unsettling feeling in his gut. For the first time in these dreams he found himself on edge, as if he was unsure as to whether or not he needed to have weapons at the ready and his warrior mindset intact.

She had chased him in playful competition, yet he never knew why he ran from her to begin with. He constantly willed his body to stop, to turn around in his tracks and try to speak to her, yet he never could. Some unseen force was willing him to push on in the game, allowing him to slip out of her eyesight now and again before darting in another direction. But this dream, the one he had stirred from minutes ago, had not only let him stop running but had allowed him to do something entirely of free will.

He had stopped behind a large tree, its trunk nearly the size of a large gate. His feet pounding against the dirt, he found himself pacing with the uneasiness of the abrupt stop. Why wasn't he running? He heard her light steps approaching before they, too, came to a halt. He figured she was searching for him or catching her breath - perhaps both. Without the running to guide his actions, he suddenly felt unnerved. What was he supposed to do now? If he were to approach her, what would he say? How would she react? He had never felt this uncertain in the dreams before and that fact alone had his face blanched with a cold sweat.

He peaked around the tree, coincidentally concealing him in his flustered nature. She stood a few trees before him looking down at the glowing red flowers that had taken to consuming the forest floor. She seemed just as confused at their presence, but he couldn't see the expression on her face. This was the first time he had been this close to her head-on, this unmoving. Yet something blocked her from him, a mist of sorts. It surrounded her body, leaving a blurred form in its wake. He would've given anything to see her eyes, the eyes of his friend.

If this were real, if they were awake, he would have approached her like a proper gentleman. Pushing the nerves to the back of his mind, he did the only logical thing he could do, something that came so naturally to him. Reaching down, he picked a flower from its place in the warm earth and stepped quietly towards her. If he were to startle her, his only logical assumption was she would return to the chase, the game of cat and mouse. He didn't want that. He needed her to stay still for a moment.

He found himself standing before her, encased in fog, and a lightness filled his eager heart. He stretched his hand towards her, flower and all, to offer his gift. Surprisingly she took it, and he was able to see her hands once more. They had always reached towards each other near the end of the dream, never touching and growing farther apart. This was the only aspect of her that he knew to be true, save for her hair and stature. Her hands were always so clear, her skin creamy against the dark tones of the forest. Now, however, her hands and arms were bruised and worn. It startled him, though he did not waiver in stance.

He always wondered if they were able to get closer, as close as their hands were able to get, would they be able to see one another? Could he truly see her in his dreams? She seemed to have the same idea, for he watched the flower sail to the ground as she took ambitious steps towards him. He remained still, not wanting to interrupt her path, before her hands met his body. Yet she did not crash into him as he had expected. She simply turned to a sparking dust and evaporated into the glowing rays of sunlight.

He stood there, gaping open mouthed at the disappearance. "Wait!" He called, looking around through the trees to the meadow to see if she had returned to her frequented place. No one was there. The leaves of the trees towering over him began to rustle in a breeze, their symphony mimicking a trickling stream. He was alone.

In a disheartening motion, he scooped up the dropped flower from the ground. If he could hold onto this, the last thing that had brought them closer, perhaps she would return. As if on queue, he heard her laughing behind him, feet fleeing through branches and flowers. She was on the chase again, and he felt himself moving with the same force once more before letting out a loud chuckle.

He now sat up in the hard bed, staring out the window of the inn into the sky filling with morning light. A long sigh passed his lips, ruffling the beard lain against his chin.

 _"I'd give up my days under the sun and stars just to touch you – I know you must feel me somehow, in some way. When I'm with you, it feels as though I'm the closest to heaven that I'll ever be without dying and I don't want to wake up to the world to risk real death, real misery, real fate."_ He thought, turning in the bed and sitting on the edge with his head in his hands.

Looking for any excuse to distract his mind, he rose from the bed and took to getting ready for the day. At first he tried not to wake his brother, moving quietly over the creaking floorboards and dressing with relative ease. He dropped a few knives on the floor while slipping his foot into a boot, wincing at the metallic clank that followed and echoed through the room. His brother simply snored on, oblivious to the world around him.

Practically set to leave, Fili walked towards the window overlooking Archet. Merchants and workers had begun their days, walking about en route to their shops or trades. Fili tried to focus on the simplicity of it all - the town and the people dwelling inside of it. Though hardships were plenty, they seemed relatively happy here. Every time he had passed through this town on the edge of Bree, Staddle, and Combe, the people seemed to enjoy their lives and worked righteously for them. If only life could be this simple, this logical. If only home were a place not sought in dreams.

As the next in line to take the throne, Fili was often burdened with responsibility and honor. Thorin expected much out of him, as did his people, and though he diligently tried to be mindful and observant, there were times he wished he could be as carefree as he was in his dreams. Perhaps that's why they tormented him so; he didn't have to worry about anything but the girl. The thought of her alone was something he could worry about in a welcomed manner. His fantasizing had gotten out of hand lately, as he had not dreamt in a long time.

He dreamt of her three weeks ago, chasing each other in and out of the forest and meadow. Her arms and wrists had been bruised then, too, though he had pushed this fact out of his mind entirely. He hated the thought of his friend being alone somewhere and hurt, if she indeed was real. It had been so long since he had found her in the meadow. For years she had evaded his presence, never showing up in the dream. He had wandered around, looking for her before he found himself running through the empty forest in search. He didn't know if she'd ever appear again.

Since the dream had returned, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl and where she had been; where had she spent her dreams since they had last met? Every night for the past week or so he prayed to their maker Mahal, Aulë's dwarven name, that he would bestow the dream on him once more yet it would seem his prayers went unheard or unanswered. Last night he hadn't wished to see her, instead focusing on the journey to the Shire and eventually to Erebor.

Coming from Ered Luin, they had just reached Archet in the outskirts of Bree-town and were headed towards Bree itself and the Shire; they needed to move quickly to make sure they met Thorin on time. Both the brothers preferred staying well away from the elf controlled port of the Grey Havens to the southeast of their home, having opted to travel east with a dwarven caravan headed to Bree for supplies. They had traveled to the north, passing through the North Downs, rather than on the Great East road. Fili thought this odd but waved away any worries he had - surely the caravan had their reasons for taking a path less paved.

Ironically, his prayers were answered last night and he had dreamt of her once again. Kili didn't know of the girls return; Fili would never dare tell his younger brother about his constant daydreams and wishes regarding the red head. Not only did he try to maintain a mature, polished example as the elder brother, he didn't want to hear the endless jesting. In their youth, Kili would tease him about the girl and the dream so much so that Fili would regret having them at times. Luckily he hadn't had to share a room with his brother the previous morning at home, so Kili was unaware that Fili was enduring such joyful heartbreak at the return, but evasion, of the dream girl.

Kili woke a few moments later, groaning and breathing heavily in frustration as the morning ticked on. He propped himself up on one elbow, hair falling in his face like a curtain as if to block out the sun. He saw his brother Fili standing across the room near the window, looking out into the world as though it held all the answers. His eyes searched, wandering the heavens as if there were a place somewhere he could escape to. Usually Fili prized himself in maintaining composure, never truly letting emotion take control of him externally. Kili had seen this look before; his brother had dreamt again.

"It's that girl again, isn't it?" Kili questioned lazily as he freed his body from the arms of sleep. "It's been a while since you dreamt of her."

Fili gave him a quick 'mhm' before folding his arms across his chest.

A while passed as Kili stood, dressed, and began to pack up his belongings at the foot of the bed. It took him a while to find one of his boots - he had thrown it across the room before falling into bed and forgot the action entirely. He went to stand next to his brother, intent on making light of the situation to pull Fili out of the haze. Fili must have known, for he spoke before the moment could be diluted.

"I don't know when, where, or what she's coming from, but I know she's coming soon. She has to be, Kili." He said, exasperation lacing his tone. "The dream was different. There were flowers everywhere; they were glowing. And for once I was able to stop and approach her. Her arms were bruised. I think she's hurt." He added, brows inching together in worry.

"Well flowers aren't a bad thing, right? That's a good omen. Women like flowers. If she's hurt, that is most unfortunate. But we can't go around asking if anyone has seen a girl with bruises and red hair. We'll get nothing but empty leads, not to mention a few hardened stares I imagine." Kili responded, a hand now placed on Fili's shoulder. "I know how much this dream girl means to you, I really do, all jesting aside. But," He continued, peaking his head around to make his brother look him in the eye, "right now we have other things to worry about. We have a duty to fulfill, a promise to our kin."

Fili nodded his head slowly, pressing his lips together in thought. He looked back up to his brother whose face had drawn so serious that if any other dwarf were to enter the room, they would have thought someone had died. At first he had expected the jokes of insanity and unhealthy loneliness to begin spewing from Kili's lips as they always had, yet none had come. His little brother was growing up, there was no doubt about that, but it was times like this that Fili found himself taken aback at Kili's maturity.

"And I thought I was the older brother." He said with a slight smile, stepping away from the window and gesturing for his brother to do the same.

"Come. Thorin will be expecting us at the meeting place by tomorrow eve. We have quite a long ways to go yet and I still need to get these blades sharpened in Bree before we set off on our quest. I doubt I'll be able to find such an adequate place in the Shire." Fili said, taking a few daggers from beneath the pillow he had slept on.

"Aye, but which blades? You can't sharpen all of them - we'll be here for a week if not two!" Kili protested loudly, as if the thought of the errand actually frustrated him.

Fili handed his brother his traveling cloak, gesturing for him to put it on. They wore ones nearly identical, though Kili's was worn fairly more and showed signs of use; he often found himself covered in dirt or in sticky situations more often than Fili did. They had always worn matching capes as dwarflings, something their mother had insisted on so as to locate them. Now it had become tradition; they always set out in their blue hoods.

"Breathe easy brother, my smaller blades and tools are plenty sharp. I just need to have my swords looked at and polished up a bit. Can't go into the world wielding dull swords now, can I? I have no doubt your knives need tending to, though." Fili answered, giving his brother a pointed look as he re-armed himself. Though to say that he was disarmed would have been a lie; he had nearly six blades on his person the moment he woke up.

* * *

The brothers set out down the hall, weapons and packs neatly tucked on their backs. The halls were narrow but relatively clean, clad in blue and silver rugs and tapestries against a light wooden trim. There were nearly ten guest rooms on the upper level and most likely the same amount if not more on the lower perimeters of the main floor. They had paid for their rooms the night before, now only needing morning provisions before setting to see about sharpening some of their blades.

They made their way down the large and worn wooden staircase, boots clunking heavily with each step. Kili shuffled hastily towards the bar, raising his eyebrows playfully back at Fili before gesturing with his head towards the barmaid. Fili shook his head, approaching much more gracefully and standing next to his brother who was now leaning over the counter in wait.

"Oi, look," Kili said, eyes ablaze with mischief, "she's a red head."

Fili rolled his eyes in disbelief. The jesting had not gone forgotten, merely put on hold.

"Aye, but she has neither a bruise nor the stature of the girl from my dreams. Besides," Fili retorted, "I think she's more interested in you." It was a lie but Fili knew it would divert the conversation away from his own situation.

Kili beamed at his brother, assuming he had seen the barmaid flashing him a knowing smile or looking over him with loving eyes. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for their interaction to come.

She walked over after a few moments, putting down a rag on the counter behind her. Her hair was red and fairly curly, chunks of it falling off her shoulders in spirals. She was slightly plump, her brown dress hugging in all the right places while displaying an array of spills and stains. She was beautiful, Fili admitted, though she seemed a bit in disarray. On top of her head pulling back the bulk of her curls was a used napkin where surely a handkerchief or a scarf should have been. This wasn't his dream girl. He'd know her when he saw her.

"Well, good morning boys. What can I get'cha?" She asked through a heavy accent, smiling openly at the two.

"We'll be in need of some good food. We have a long, weary road ahead of us and we'll need to keep our strength up." Kili said, puffing his chest. "Strong, able men like us need their breakfast, but I'm sure you know that." He said with a wink.

The woman rolled her eyes and gave him a bright smile, though Fili mused it was not out of admiration but pity. Kili didn't notice this, taking her kindness as interest.

"And if you're offering anything other than food - " Kili began.

"We'll have a couple of apples, a loaf of bread for the road, and water in our skins. Please." Fili interjected, shooting his brother a menacing look. He placed a few coins on the counter, sliding them to her in haste before handing over his water skin and motioning for Kili to do the same.

She took them willingly, nodding before saying, "I'll be right back." She walked back behind the bar and into a dark storage room.

"What did you do that for, I was actually getting somewhere!" Kili whispered harshly as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

"You were getting yourself a good slap in the face and a plate full of rotten food." Fili answered, head shaking. Leave it to Kili to miss a good joke. "She wasn't interested in you; I was toying with you. I figured you would have noticed that when she rolled her eyes but you just stood there, digging yourself an even deeper grave." Fili finished, chuckling a bit at his brother's actions.

Kili was always so interested in females, pining for their attention or gaze. It wasn't that Fili didn't like women - he did. He was attracted to the races of men and dwarves, finding a few girls to court here and there. None of them ever panned out, for most who knew who he was simply sought out his line of kin, wanting nothing more than his name and his wealth; if they hadn't known who he was, they would after asking around. Dwarven women were rare, numbering the men thirty to one, and the dams at home weren't exactly the most ideal. They were either too old with beards longer than his or too young with no beard at all; Fili wanted to find a companion he could treasure and love and grow with, not one who could either be his mother or his child.

He also had plenty of more pressing matters at hand and on his mind; he was training to be a ruler and was taking the task seriously. He didn't have time for courting or infatuations, though he argued with himself that his dream girl was much more than an obsession. For right now, she was all he needed and could ever want, though he couldn't tell why. He knew he couldn't exactly have her, either. But he could dream.

"That wasn't funny." Kili answered, crossing his arms across his chest and letting his usually cheerful expression grow into one laced with annoyance. His pouting only made Fili laugh harder, reminding him of their childhood days.

"Dear brother, you need to learn the taste of your own medicine and when to recognize it." Fili said, slapping him on the back. "I am sorry - I thought you would have caught on faster than that. Just be glad I saved you before it got worse. She's nice, but I don't think she takes too much off of men. Just imagine what she has to deal with."

Kili remained stiff, sulking in his embarrassment. Fili left him alone, knowing his brother was taking in his words and getting over the situation in silence. Perhaps he had learned something as well, but he doubted it. The next chance he'd get he would be pining over some poor girl who just wanted to get on with her day. Fili didn't mind for the most part, so long as Kili remained a gentleman and respected the women he encountered. Perhaps they could finally teach him a lesson or two.

The barmaid returned a few minutes later with a loaf of bread neatly wrapped in linen, a small bag of apples and oranges, and two fairly large pieces of dried, salted meat.

"What's this for?" Kili asked, looking at the woman as though she were trying to mock him with this offering of food, evidently more than Fili had requested.

"The bread and apples as you requested, plus a few more for the road. And I thought you might need the extra protein, seeing as you are strong, able men that need their strength." She said with a wink. She laughed lightly at the wide-eyed stare Kili was giving her before bidding the brothers a good day and tending to another customer at the other end of the bar.

"I told you I was getting somewhere." Kili finally managed to say, looking at Fili with hope.

"I suppose you were." Fili answered, his lips pulled into a tight line of surprise. He thought he was fairly good at reading body languages and reactions. Apparently women defied all odds, as they always did.

Greedily they ate the pieces of dried meat, grateful that the woman had provided it. With a few pieces of meat left hanging in their mouths, they organized the rest of the food for the road and distributed it evenly amongst their packs. The inn was growing busier as the morning drew on, and Fili was worried they had already lost too much daylight.

Walking through the crowd of morning patrons, Fili practically had to drag Kili out of the doors to ensure he didn't fall behind to try his luck again with the woman. "There will always be next time." Fili offered.

Kili sighed and nodded, accepting this bit of truth and holding onto its promise. "I suppose we'll have to come back for mother after we reclaim the mountain." Kili said with another sigh.

They set out, headed towards Combe, Staddle, and eventually Bree. Both brothers were tired, not being used to such demanding travels, and so they walked in comforting silence. Kili muddled over his encounter with the barmaid, imagining a complex system of scenarios that could play out when he returned; Fili thought of his dream friend, contemplating whether or not she was returning to haunt him or to find him. They had ventured the world, surely, but it had been a long while since they had walked so much. The caravan the accompanied had been good company, full of conversation and stories, but they were used to making quick and efficient trips; the brothers were used to a much more lax walkabout. Fili had opted to staying in Archet as he and his brother had done many times before, parting ways and letting the caravan continue south towards Bree.

An hour or so had passed, and the brothers found themselves meandering the busy streets of Bree after quickly passing through Staddle. Fili had fully awoken, taking in the sights and various smells that filled the late morning air; Kili was stumbling about as if in a walking slumber. After gaining their bearings, they headed to the blacksmith's shop towards the eastern end of town. This shop was dirty and crowded, overflowing with pieces of weaponry or armor waiting to be picked up or purchased. The smell of steel and fire hung in the air, welcoming the two brothers in with a bit of familiarity. As expected, the man was fairly busy with orders or repairs but gladly took the opportunity to take a break from the heat and sharpen their weapons.

Fili ended up handing over his double sword pair, a long curved knife that looked more like a miniature sword, and two matching daggers that he kept in each of his boots. He had plenty of other blades that he would have wanted to be sharp enough to cut through air, though he knew time was of the essence and their current states would more than do the job. Kili handed over two of his combative knives as well as a few of his practice arrows - their heads saw the most wear - upon Fili's request. Within an hour or two they were on the road again, headed towards the Shire on the Great East Road.

The road was indeed long but it was far from uneventful or dreary. Mainly sticking to the path, they ran into quite a many traveler, a few farmers, and a handful of sea-farers. Swapping story after story, they found themselves talking about the various ways other people lived. Not having a true home of their own, Fili and Kili often compared their way of life to that of others. They had never seen Erebor, being born and growing up in Ered Luin, yet they had listened to the tales of old and the promises of their uncle. They had grown up in a place that felt very much like a home yet they knew it to be a temporary shelter. It seemed dreams of reclaiming their homeland would soon become reality, or so they hoped.

"Uncle should have met with Dain yesterday in the Iron Hills. Or perhaps it was the day before last." Kili said, trying to tie a piece of grass in knots as he walked. The task had ended in the blade being ruptured by his forceful fingers yet the dwarf tried again and again. There was nothing else to do at this point, and Fili figured he needed some outlet for his boundless energy.

"Aye. What do you think will come of it?" Fili answered, wanting to know if Kili had dwelt upon the seriousness of the meeting at all. Fili had done nothing but worry over the event, preparing himself for the harsh reality were Dain to refuse aiding their quest. He didn't know if they could retake the mountain with such a small number of dwarves.

"I'm not sure. Dain has always been receptive and giving to our people, though I think his motives are far more selfish than they are devoted to kin. Then again, I'm not a ruler and I'm not responsible for that many people. I could be viewing the whole thing through biased eyes." He said, finally tying a second knot in a piece of grass and aiming at a third.

"I agree with you, though I think his selfish nature is fueled from uncertainties; his kin lost their home in the Grey Mountains to a dragon just as ours did. I think our family ties to him make his aid even more desirous and the thought of a refusal by him only makes the situation that more personal." Fili answered, relieved that his brother was taking things seriously. In some small way, he felt the weight of the matter lift slightly.

They walked in relative silence with their thoughts, the gravel and dirt crunching under their feet as they trekked onward. Birds sung in the distance, their notes and songs harmonizing in the wind. It was nearing the end of winter on the brink of spring, and though the weather should have been much colder, the sun was warming up the earth ever so slightly. Fili took note of this, praying the warmer weather would improve as their quest went underway.

After a while, Kili seemed to have grown tired of his grass knotting and sought to continue their conversation. "If Dain refuses, what do you think we'll do?"

"I think we will press on, as we always have. We'll make do." Fili said, trying to sound more confident than he actually was.

"You don't think Uncle will wait for more help and cancel the quest?" Kili asked, hoping Fili would say no.

He and his brother had dreamt of roaming Middle-Earth since the moment they set foot in the world. Kili had never made it past Bree-town and the surrounding wilderness, save for one expedition they had partaken in under Thorin's orders. The brothers were to accompany some traders and merchants from Dunland to Ered Luin, and they had traveled through Bree and down south on the Greenway. They had been witness to a Fire Moon, something Kili could still see in his mind, brilliantly blazing amidst the twinkling stars. Otherwise it was mostly uneventful, to which Kili was a little disheartened - he didn't want any harm or danger, but he wanted something exciting to hold onto and gab about. Fili had made many a travel on his own as well as with other diplomats, but the accompaniment of merchants was the closest Kili had ever come to visiting the Shire. The younger brother was eager, to say the least; this was an adventure he had wanted since he first laid eyes on a map of the world. The thought of having to turn around and go home after just a few day's time left him disappointed; he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk his mother into letting him leave home a second time for an uncertain, perilous quest.

"No. No chance of it. He's waited much longer for this quest than you or I. No bump in the road will keep him from continuing onward." Fili said.

A sad smile crossed his face. Thorin had endured so much in his life and had worked so hard for everything he had, everything they had. He deserved some triumph and redemption, though none of his kin or fellow folk expected it of him. His vigor and persistence inspired Fili, pushing him to become appreciative and hard working just as his uncle was and his father had been.

"I know that. Nothing has ever stopped him when he's determined. Do you remember the time he was bent on teaching me how to use a sword despite mother's protesting?" Kili answered with a laugh, bringing light to the thoughts Fili had been caught up in.

The corners of Fili's mouth turned up in a genuine smile. He recalled little Kili, barely larger than a war hammer, trying to pick up a sword. He had fallen over countless times under the weight of the weapon, unable to steady himself or master a correct stance. Though he knew it to be a weapon and to be safe with it, the small dwarf had absolutely no concept of personal space when it came to training. On more than one occasion, he had accidentally sliced and slashed at furniture or trinkets, barely missing a few feet now and again. He was young, yes, but to Thorin he was a hazard that needed proper guidance.

Their mother had offered teaching him how to use a bow to which he took to like breathing. Dis had talked Thorin into letting the dwarfling be with the bow and trying again with the sword in a year or so, but secretly Thorin wouldn't have it. Though there were plenty of dwarven archers in Ered Luin and throughout Middle-Earth, Thorin wanted the heirs of Durin to be well mannered and fluent in the traditional weapons of their people. Axes, swords, hammers - these were true, honorable weapons. A bow held its place in the armory, but it was not fueled with tradition, something he felt the boys needed desperately. Little did Thorin know just how reliant he would become on Kili's archery abilities.

"Of course I remember!" Fili said with a laugh. "I remember Thorin complaining to me about it, as if I could somehow sway mother's decision on the matter; I was merely eleven! 'No son of Durin is going to prance around like an elf with one of those oversized slingshots.'" Fili finished, attempting to do his best impression of their uncle in a deep, overbearing voice.

Kili burst out laughing, air catching in his throat after a few moments of mirth. Fili followed suit, letting his emotions soak in the happiness. He hadn't felt himself laugh like this in a while; it felt nice.

"I remember the first time you brought that old bow to practice." Fili began through quieting laughs. "Thorin looked at you as though you had just grown a pair of pointy ears and shed any hope of growing a beard. You begged him to let you use that thing, practically crying every time he said no." Fili said, clasping his hands together as if in a mock plea. "'Uncle why must you be so cruel!'" He continued in a falsetto voice.

"I did not sound like that!" Kili protested, though still smiling.

Fili shot him a smirk. "Yes you did."

"...I did. I was but a dwarfling!" Kili protested, as though his brother was attempting to berate him on his youth.

Fili just waved his hand, as if to send the thought out of Kili's mind. "I will never forget the look on his face when you shot an arrow at him as he walked away to get you a sword. It's a good thing mother had given you those false training arrows." Fili said, shaking his head and peaking over at his brother to see his reaction.

Kili bit his lip and tried not to chuckle. "I hit him not once, not twice, but thrice. Once in the arse and twice in his chest as he came barreling at me."

"I have never seen a more angry, proud dwarf in all my life." Fili said, letting out a heavy sigh after having calmed his laughter. "No one would have expected you to hit a target once, let alone a moving one three times in a row, shot for shot."

"I doubt my skills would have improved much after that day if I hadn't taken a shot at him in my childish rage. I probably would've ended up as a sword or hammer dragger like you." Kili said with a playful wink. "Sometimes I think my bravery is mistaken for stupidity. Either way, it hasn't gotten me killed yet."

"Or you just have dumb luck." Fili quipped back. "Us sword and hammer draggers can't risk our lives on that - we rely on hardened skills."

Kili cast him a look of playful anger, attempting to swat at Fili's arm. Fili stopped in his tracks, letting his brother carry on a few steps. They stared each other down in the middle of the road, smiles and hearts gearing up for whatever the other was about to do. Sensing Kili's impatience, Fili took a small jump forward as if to tackle his brother to the ground. Expecting impact, Kili lunged forward just as Fili sidestepped, causing his younger brother to stumble forward and onto his hands and knees.

Fili let out a mocking laugh before taking off down the road, Kili just on his heels. They ran for what felt like ages, cutting into bushes and fields and in between sparse trees, letting out taunting comments and laughs before finding the road once again. With a pang of hunger, Fili gave up, letting his brother pin him down into the gravel.

"Real skill? What do you call that? I'm younger and faster!" Kili blurted out through heavy breaths, practically sitting on Fili's chest.

"Yes, yes. Now get off me." Fili said through an exasperated laugh. Having a nearly full grown dwarf on top of him after running for a mile or so wasn't exactly ideal.

"Of course, old man." Kili said, rising and offering a hand out dramatically to his brother.

Fili took it, standing and wiping off his clothes that were covered in patches of dust and dirt.

"I'm not old. I just let you win. I'm hungry, would you like an apple?" Fili said, giving his brother a knowing look. He swung his pack off his shoulders and knelt down to reach inside for an apple. Hopefully they hadn't gotten too bruised.

"Mhm. Say whatever you'd like. I know an elder when I see one; I was raised to respect and care for them. Is that a grey hair I see?" Kili said with a wink.

"I'm not old, Kili! Will you just - here." Fili answered, throwing his brother an apple.

He caught it without so much as a flinch, hand flying to meet it in the air. "You're just in denial. Like you are with that red head." Kili said before taking a gracious bite of the fruit before him, juice trailing down his chin.

"What?" Fili said, looking up from his pack.

"Oh you know," Kili managed through bites, "your dream friend. You say you don't need love but I know that to be far from the truth. I've seen how she tears you apart. She has a hold of you yet you deny it every chance you get."

Fili took a forceful bite of apple, annoyance evident in his eyes, and swung his pack back over his shoulders. "Let's get going." He said mid step, leaving his brother to catch up.

Within a few strides Kili was beside him again. "See. Just like that. You don't even want to talk about her. I know you want her to be real, and for all we know she could be, yet you won't acknowledge the feelings or need you have for someone like her. You deny your heart the opportunity of happiness. I can't stay around forever to fill the void and I assure you I won't look desirable in a dress, no matter how hard you squint." Kili said, attempting to nullify his brother's annoyance with him.

Fili smiled lightly, accepting the unspoken offer of peace. "I have no time for such things, you know that. Right now she's just a dream. That's all she's ever been." He answered, devouring his apple in a few bites before chucking the core into the bushes.

They walked in silence, Kili knowing his place and realizing when to stop inquiring about his brother's deepest emotions. At first Kili had been jealous of the dream girl, wanting to dream the dreams Fili had throughout their lives. After many years, it was as if Fili had found a friend that Kili could never have, which pained the younger brother unexpectedly. He had grown to see the torment and longing in Fili as the dreams took their toll; Kili knew this was serious. This wasn't something Fili was making up for attention or some sort of sibling superiority. This was something real, and something Kili could tell his brother wanted desperately.

He and his brother had always been close, defining the very word sibling it would seem. Their childhood was full of laughter and mischief, the freedom to explore and grow with every rising sun. They had taken their kin and their heritage as a blessing, never for granted and always aiming to do right by their ancestors and Aulë himself.

As they had gotten older they had not grown apart but merely held less time for such carefree things; they didn't explore the wilderness for hours or stir up a scene in the forges. They held responsibilities, learning to own their family name rather than simply hold it. Fili was thrown into this reality before Kili was; Thorin thought it best Fili's training start at a young age so he could rise to the occasion were he to take the throne rather than simply be thrust into it.

The action had never divided the brothers - Kili simply knew that Fili held more responsibility and respected the fact he had to grow up in many more ways than anticipated. But in some ways, Kili knew he didn't have to leave childhood behind, not really. He could mentally prepare himself for the world while still stoking the fire inside Fili and his fellows dwarves. Someone had to keep their faces bright and cheery in the shadow of despair that covered the Blue Mountains.

Kili always knew how to take the burdens of the world and cut them down to size. Life was what always mattered, not just when diplomacy and war were on the line. Somehow Kili knew this, never letting the worries or the pressing matters overlook the importance of enjoying life and those in it. Whether it was due to his age or his character, it was a quality that Fili always admired and tried to adopt himself when he could. His heart was still light and willing to love; it was his mind that was slowly growing hardened by the evils and uncertainties of the future. Kili kept him grounded, tied to the bliss of life amidst all the pressures of it.

"So what do you think the Shire is like?" Kili asked after a long while, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. The sun had moved a few inches in the sky, indicating it must have been midday.

"I've had scarce encounters with hobbits though they've always been pleasant; my travels have merely taken me through the Shire and I've yet a chance to truly visit. It's quite enchanting, full of greenery and friendly folk. It's a stark contrast to our halls of stone and earth." Fili answered, staring down the road. There was a mass of trees a few miles ahead, indicating they would be entering Buckland and passing the Old Forest soon as they followed the road.

"Aye, that's what I've heard too. I've heard that they're quite a lazy bunch of people though, at least compared to dwarves. They don't push hard to make a name for themselves in this world; we have our mines and craftsmanship and endless battle legends. I'm not sure I can recall anything a hobbit has been famous for creating or contributing." Kili said, his face scrunched up in thought.

"No, I can't think of anything either. Though maybe we'll learn something from them upon our visit. There has to be a reason their lands are so prosperous and peaceful. I'm sure trade and friendly relations would benefit our kingdom were the opportunity to present itself." Fili responded, thinking of ways in which he could use this trip to his advantage. Talking to Thorin about this might impress him; Fili wanted to be a good ruler but it seemed his attempts had always left Thorin disappointed or wanting more out of his nephew.

"Ever the political strategist." Kili said with a shake of his head. "Can't you just leave all of that behind? We're on a quest! We are leaving home for a brighter future - not just for us, but for our people! Is that not diplomatic enough?"

Kili had a point, though Fili didn't feel the need to discredit the opportunity. A king does not stop being king simply because he vacates the throne. "I can't Kili. I have to think about these things; it's what Thorin expects of me. And what you and everyone else will grow to expect of me as well." Fili said with a sigh. There were times he regretted being heir to the throne, this being one of them. He felt as though he couldn't always be the older brother he needed to be, caught up in obligations of being the future ruler he needed to be instead.

Kili let out a snort. "I will never expect anything of you other than to be my faithful brother until the end of my days. Having a crown and fancy attire to accompany a polished title doesn't change that fact, nor will it ever."

Fili smiled openly at his brother, reaching over to ruffle his hair slightly. "There are times I'm glad I didn't kill you when we were younger." He said with a slight smirk.

Kili just smiled back in response, content in the closeness they continued to share. His brother's rise to responsibility and authority had always left a weary feeling in his heart - Fili was the perfect man to take control of a kingdom, but he was also his brother. Kili had always feared that the task would create a rift, one Kili couldn't overcome with silliness or brotherly love. It had yet to happen, and for this Kili was glad.

"You know I'll always be there for you, Fee." Kili said, letting the wave of emotion come over him. Sometimes he needed to show he cared and it was nice knowing he was cared for.

"And I you." Fili responded, taken aback at how open his brother was being. "You'll always be my brother."

It warmed Fili's heart. Though he tended to suppress the vocalization of his feelings, there were three people on this earth to whom he would always give his devoted love: Thorin, his mother, and his brother. Thorin didn't openly accept the display of emotions, though Fili always knew they held a special bond as sister-son and uncle. His mother was his mother, tough and unwavering yet giving to a fault. And his brother was, well, in a league of his own.

"Hey!" Kili shouted, his hands extended outwards. "The hobbits created pipeweed!" A grin began to spread across his face.

"Aye, they did." Fili answered, nodding to himself. "I wonder how well that would trade in the Blue Mountains. It would definitely turn a profit, seeing how tobacco is always in demand." He continued, a hand on his chin.

Kili groaned beside him, giving Fili a look as if to silence him.

Fili burst out laughing, shaking his head. "I'm only kidding. Well, come to think of it, that is a promising concept - something I should keep in mind - but I was just trying to get a rise out of you."

Kili smiled lightly. "I mean it, Fili. You don't have to be so official on this quest. There are no council members to supervise your actions or poke at your performance. You spend so much time under the weight of your position as an heir. I don't spend nearly as much time as you do with responsibilities, but I still carry my weight. We can relax and have fun together, just like old times. I know this journey won't be easy, but you can focus on spending time with the company and honing in on your battle skills. Not to mention all the time you'll get to spend with me." He said with a toothy grin. "You can just be Fili. I can just be Kili. None of this prince nonsense."

Fili liked the sound of that. As often as he was appreciative of his duty as heir, he wished for opportunities like this. He wanted to be a normal dwarf, focused on family and morality rather than a political presence. This was far from reality, and he knew this, but perhaps Kili was right. Perhaps this could be his last chance at a somewhat normal life.

"I'll...try to be just Fili. Though I'm not sure how receptive Thorin will be of this new attitude." He said with hesitation. Kili beamed at him, eyes wide with happiness at what this insinuated. "But I don't know if it'll be entirely easy seeing as I've spent the past seventy or so years in the shadow of the throne."

"Trust me, brother. Thorin will have his sights set on the mountain, which means they won't be focused on us, you in particular. Within a few days you'll feel like your old self again. Gone will be the burdens of politics and you'll be renewed with a sense of freedom. This is something you need. We both need it. Thorin needs it..." Kili said, trailing off in thought.

"Aye he does. I'm not so sure he'll ever let his authoritative guard down, though. I've yet to see that happen. At least for now he can focus on this quest rather than a kingdom under the weight of its loss." Fili said.

"I can't wait to see Erebor. I bet its overflowing with gold - the forges must be grotesquely beautiful!" Kili said, breaking the somber mood. "Mother told me it would have only grown in exquisiteness with time."

"She told me that as well. Said I should spend a few moments upon entering to take it all in rather than running around amidst the halls in their glory." Fili responded, his thoughts far away in imagination.

"I don't know if I'll be able to contain myself for very long. Running through the halls might be the only way to take it all in." Kili answered.

"Yes, I don't doubt you'll be like a dwarfling on his first nameday." Fili said, shaking his head at his brother's eagerness. "You do realize we have to get rid of the dragon first."

Kili's eyes dropped simultaneously with his shoulders. "I forgot about the damned serpent." He said through gritted teeth.

"It's going to be challenging, to say the least. We dwarves may be ruthless and resistant to heat, but we're still susceptible to a dragon's claws or fangs. I'm not sure how Thorin is planning on ridding the mountain of the beast. If we could secure help from the Iron Hills..." Fili trailed off, worry overcoming him once more at the thought of Thorin's meeting with Dain.

"We'll find a way." Kili said hastily, as if to halt the conversation from diverting in a negative direction. He was so sure of his assumption, knowing that their race had not met a foe so terrible they could not endure it or triumph over it.

They found themselves once again in a comfortable silence, walking aside one another at a quick but ample pace. Stopping only once, they had divided the loaf of bread into two halves - one they would share now and the other they would eat over dinner. They neared the outskirts of the Old Forest, the road turning into an incline with the promise of trees and thick forest brush ahead. Kili hummed tunes quietly to himself, though Fili enjoyed listening as he walked.

The clouds had traversed the skies, forming clumps of images that would block the sun time and again. Fili found himself searching their formations for shapes of things - birds, hammers, swords, wolves - until he saw one that resembled a flower. It wasn't obvious, as some cloud formations were, but he saw it all the same. Five circular puffs floated around one another, creating an image of a fully opened bloom soaking in the sun's rays from the sky.

His thoughts wandered to the girl once more. If he just had a name or a concrete image to accompany her memory he wouldn't be plagued by her so. For nearly eighty two years he had sought answers, looking for her in every waking moment. He had even gone as far as to seek out the physical meadow and surrounding forest with Kili's help. Once they had gotten close, coming upon a meadow resembling the one in his dreams not far from their home in a small valley of the Blue Mountains. The trees were different and the flowers didn't seem to bloom as fruitfully as they had in the dreams; the sun didn't reach this stretch of grass quite right either. Nonetheless, he had spent nearly half a year returning to this place in hopes he would find her.

He had also sought out women with auburn hair; in fact, the first woman he had become involved with had red hair. Time and again, merchants would come to trade or the brothers would be allowed to go into neighboring towns for an errand or to simply adventure and Fili would be there, searching for locks of red hair and knowing eyes. Kili caught onto this after a while, noticing how Fili would seek out the fiery haired women and would join in the search, though this was mostly to annoy Fili. Kili had always known Fili to be serious when discussing or searching for the dream girl, but it was all too easy to fit a few jokes in now and again. For once Kili was able to hold leverage over Fili, something his big brother had done tenfold in their youth.

There had been times when he had tried to imagine her facial features and personality. She was cheery and headstrong, he knew that much. The relentless efforts she made at chasing him while making light of their encounter told him she knew how to have fun but also how to focus on a goal. He imagined her to be well educated, able to hold a conversation while also knowing when to hold her tongue. He could see her wanting to learn from him, as he wished to from her, and felt they would carry on conversations for hours without boredom.

Her red hair was neither curly nor straight yet he couldn't get a solid look at it while it was thrashing behind her. Her height was near perfect in his opinion. She wasn't burly or disproportioned, having lean muscles while still managing to be a hand or so shorter than he. He could imagine her eyes a deep brown, resembling the wood of the forest. Perhaps they were golden, like the light of the sun shining though the trees, or green, like the dew-laden blades of grass.

No matter the scenario or the imagery, he felt as though this was his match. This unknown dame was tied to him through fate, though exactly how he was not sure. It was as if without truly knowing her he felt as though he understood her better than she did herself. This was how he knew that when they met, if they ever did, he would know instantaneously who she was. The magnitude of chemistry and connection that had somehow grown over the years in his dreams was strong and true, something that couldn't be conjured by his sleeping mind. Even after a hiatus over a few years, her return to the dream elicited the same emotions from him.

The brothers had now ventured into the forest, the trees filtering out sunlight and cooling the air. The shade brought relief for a while, what with their thick traveling clothes and stuffed packs. Fili had cursed himself for having wished the warmer weather upon them. He paused for a moment, taking his pack off and removing his blue cloak.

"What! You can't take that off. How will mother find us now?" Kili teased, pausing as well to remove his cloak.

"I'm sure she's got a hundred eyes on us already." Fili answered. Though impossible, he didn't put it past his mother to have lookouts or messengers waiting in the Shire to report back to her when they had crossed over. If she had had it her way, she would have been on this quest herself.

"Do you think we'll make it by nightfall?" Kili inquired.

"I'm not sure to be honest. I've never been this far. I would imagine we're close, though I don't think we'll make it by the evening. We've been walking for quite a while." He said, peering up through the tree canopies to find the sky. It was darker though not quite sunset.

"Why don't we continue a bit further and make camp somewhere before the skies become too dark?" Kili suggested, fitting his pack back on and rolling his shoulders.

"Sounds like a plan." Replied Fili, who began walking once more down the Great East Road.

A few hours had passed, the two dwarves stopping underneath a twilight soaked sky. Not wanting to submit themselves to a rogue thief, they had found a small clearing a bit of the ways off the road that suited well for a camp. There were a few scattered rocks lying around on the forest floor that Kili had managed to pile up in a makeshift fire pit, getting a fire lit swiftly in the process. Fili set to unpacking their belongings, placing their bed rolls out on either side of the fire and taking out their provisions.

"We have half a loaf left - we can split it if you'd like." Fili said, breaking the large piece of bread in two.

Kili reached a hand out, taking it from his brother. "We can cut up an apple with some of that cheese mother gave us, have ourselves a sandwich of sorts." Kili offered, searching in his pack for the rich white cheese.

Fili took out two apples, taking note that they had only two left in the bag along with a pair of oranges. "We have oranges for breakfast and apples for a midday meal." He commented, taking out a knife from a compartment in his tunic and slicing the apples in a swift manner.

"Excellent!" Kili said, ecstatic that they were together in the wilderness.

It wasn't often they were allowed or able to camp together under the stars. Though they loved to eat, neither of them thought much about the lack of food. No doubt they'd see leaner times on this journey. Right now, fair company and good memories were all that mattered. They ate in silence, enjoying every bite of the sweet apple and the robust cheese. Kili took out his water skin and took a hefty drink from it, offering it to his brother.

"I have my own, Kili. Thank you." Fili answered with a smile, taking one last bite of bread.

"Yes but is yours filled with ale?" Kili asked, a brow quirked up in question.

"No - it's a water skin. For water." Fili responded, taking the flask quickly and taking a gulp of its contents. Even if his brother had carelessly filled his water source with alcohol, he wouldn't pass up the offer of a good drink after a long day's journey. "This isn't ale!" He said, swallowing the water with a look of distaste.

"Aye, 'tis not. I was merely pretending. Makes the whole camp experience better, I suppose." Kili said, a smile playing over his lips.

"I suppose." Fili answered, a slight scowl present in his eyes. Fili wasn't one to overindulge in alcohol but he appreciated the opportunity to unwind after a tiring day. Every dwarf welcomed a good drink or two, especially in merriment or pleasant company.

"Come, brother. Tell me a story!" Kili answered, attempting to bring his brother's spirits up at the lack of spirits they had.

"I don't know any." Fili said, handing the water skin back over to his brother.

"Yes you do. I used to love your stories!" Kili pleaded.

"I have forgotten all of them." Fili said, thoughts wandering to his dreams. Right now that was the only story he could seem to remember, the only one he didn't know the ending to.

"You haven't. You've just grown old and bitter. Just as I said earlier..." Kili said, looking off into the distance to hide his playful grin.

"Fine. One story. You know I've never been good at telling stories on a whim." Fili answered, seeking out his pipe and tobacco from his pack.

Attentive and eager, Kili scooted forward on his bed roll, propping his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. "I'll tell one after, to be fair."

"Oh how generous of you." Fili responded, sitting back onto his elbows and staring into the fire after taking a long inhale of his pipe. "We're not doing this every night - we'll surely drive one another mad, if not Thorin in the process." He stated with wide eyes.

"Fair enough." Kili responded, unmoving in wait for his brother to begin speaking.

After a few minutes, Fili had yet to begin, simply taking puffs on his pipe and studying the flames of their small fire. His face remained relatively expressionless, as though he were caught in a trance. His mind was elsewhere.

"Well!?" Kili blurt out impatiently.

"Just give me a moment!" Fili retorted before coughing, having taken a premature breath. "I told you I don't do well with spontaneous story telling."

Kili rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing his brother was stalling for some reason. They had nothing but time, so he didn't mind much. He took to gazing up at the stars peaking through the trees. He had always been drawn to the stars, unsure as to why they shone so brightly yet enthralled with the fact that they shone far more brilliantly than any gem he had ever seen.

After a long moment, Fili began. "How about the tale of Glaurung?"

"I always loved that tale. Especially fitting seeing as we're off to kill a dragon." Kili said, eyes full of wonder.

"That's what I was thinking." Fili said, nodding to his brother from across the fire. "Now then. Morgoth had been contained to Angbad, peace falling over Beleriand for nearly four hundred years. The elves and dwarves of old had become prosperous in their trade arrangements - before the dishonorable creatures failed to aid us in our time of need." He spat out, unwilling to give any more acknowledgement to the alliance of elf and dwarf in the First Age.

Kili nodded his head in agreement, resentment in his brown eyes. All dwarves knew of the tale; Durin's folk sought help in their moments of vulnerability as Smaug had come down upon the Lonely Mountain. Thranduil, the smug, autocratic elven king of the Woodland realm, refused to aid the fleeing people of Erebor, deciding his life and the lives of his soldiers were too valuable a risk against the dragon. This was an acceptable - though dishonorable - decision yet the elf wouldn't even offer the homeless and wandering dwarves a place to stay. Instead, he left them to fend for themselves amidst the wilds of Middle-Earth; they were not his problem nor would they ever be.

"I wouldn't doubt if he were related to that elven king the dwarves of Nogrod killed in the First Age." Kili commented. "If the rumors are true, the elves tried to smite us then as well." Though the tale had twisted through the years and painted a picture of an ever-growing rift between the two races, the brothers had grown with resentment for the elves after their uncle and family had been abandoned during the invasion of Erebor by the fire drake. In the tale of old, the great mountainous craftsmen were sought out by the other races for many a task - building great kingdoms, gates, weaponry and armor - as well as for their skill with jewels. The elves had always appreciated this skill, seeking out dwarvish trademark for their own crowns and pieces of finery. The dwarves of Nogrod had accepted a request from Thingol, the high king of Doriath, to craft a piece of jewelry so refined, so lavish, that the gem placed within it would grow in glorious beauty. Thus the Nauglamír was created at the hands of the dwarves, though the elves refused to pay adequately for its creation. Because of this, it was assumed the elves had never shown appropriate respect towards the dwarves and their abilities; the dwarves held onto this story, loathing the other race's lack of honor and gratitude.

Fili, nodded, remembering stories he and his brother had heard regarding the ancient murder of an elf by dwarven hands. If it had not been for Thranduil's callowness he figured there would have been peace between the dwarves and elves, a union of trade and respect continuing to prosper. However, now that he was older and more aware of the troubles of the world, he couldn't help but wonder if the dwarves of Nogrod had been right in their vicious slaying of the elven king long ago; perhaps they didn't deserve the notions of dishonor that had been placed upon them. All of the dwarves were warned of the dishonor and greed of Nogrod, using their acts of malice and selfish covetousness as demonstrations of the dangers of gold lust that could take hold were one blind to its affects. Fili and Kili had grown to respect the stories, noting that the love of earth and jewels that filled their bones was not to be valued over the love of life itself.

Of the seven clans of dwarves that were awoken by Eru after having put them to sleep when Aulë improperly created them, the dwarves of Nogrod had awoken in the Blue Mountains along with the dwarves of Belegost. It was known that the Nogrod dwarves were overlooked by the other clans in the First Age, having disrupted the harmony between races and kingdoms in an already dark time. They had been deemed as outcasts of the dwarven culture, focused on greed and prosperity rather than on rekindling the fire of hope throughout Middle-Earth. The Nogrod dwarves' reputation was the reason why other peoples often held biases towards dwarven tendencies, claiming they were constantly consumed by greed and focused on superiority. Of course, the dragon sickness that had taken hold of his grandfather and great grandfather hadn't done any to dissuade that stereotype either.

Fili continued on, not wanting to become more lost in thought than he already had been. "During this time, Morgoth had born a dragon unto these lands, breeding it for annihilation of good folk and warrior alike. In the Battle of the Sudden Flame, Morgoth struck swiftly and unexpectedly, spewing flames out like great rivers from the Iron Mountains." At this, the older dwarf mimicked the falling of fire with his hands, waving his fingers like the flames that lay before him in the pit. "The elves were no match for the unrelenting fire storm, perishing as they fled from the hands of Morgoth. From this dark fire followed legions of orcs, balrogs, and of course, Glaurung - the Father of Dragons." Fili said with intensity, pausing for effect now and again as his younger brother took in the scene being painted before him.

"Unable to combat the forces of wickedness, the elves faced defeat as Morgoth entered into Beleriand, breaking the siege and roaming at chaotic will, carrying out acts of vile. Glaurung returned to Angbad, maturing in strength while fathering more dragons. These dragons were lesser in ability though just as deadly to the races of men and elves." Fili said, pausing to see to his pipe.

"This great northern worm proved to be of no match for dwarves, for we are built to withstand dragonfire and the effects of dragon spells; we could not be burnt nor bent of will." With this, Fili held a glint in his eye, admiring the traits of their ancestors that had undoubtedly passed down through bloodlines to themselves and their kin. "Our ancestors were also outfitted in mithril, said to be just as resilient as dragon scales yet lacking the weight."

"Aulë bless us - we really are the most vigilant and ambitious race." Kili commented, imagining his own body clad in mithril armor while in the midst of Smaug, the dragon they would surely slay in the months to come.

Fili nodded his head, returning to the story once more. "During the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, we faced Glaurung head on, no wavering or cowering inside of our mines. Not only had we tired of his and the other dragon's tendencies to covet and steal our hard-sought treasures, we had invested our people in the War of the Jewels. The continuous battle had grown leery and long, and our ancestors thought it best to put and end to it if they could."

"This is where the War of the Dragons began." Kili said, commenting once more. "Our great granduncle Frór and our great great grandfather Dain the First were slain by a dragon, full with lust and hatred for our people, after the first encounter with Glaurung."

Fili nodded in agreement, thoughts reflecting back to the conversation he and his brother had held earlier that day regarding their cousin Dain and his family's tragedies. As their cousin, members of their shared lineage had been killed by a cold drake in the Grey Mountains over the treasure that lain within its halls. Perhaps there had been a curse placed on the dwarves, stemming from their heinous encounters with the great worms and winged serpents. Surely Thrór and his people had met the same fate with Smaug.

"We joined forces once again with elves and men, following under the command of Maedhros, one of the most notable warriors and diplomats of the elves." He said with slight irritation. The old alliances of dwarves and elves pained him like a splinter, not enough to wound but bothersome nonetheless.

"Though we did not slay the great worm, our ancestors helped turn the tide in battle. Had it not been for their noble and valiant acts, the races of elves and men in the east would have been vanquished by the ceaseless attacks of the dragons. Our efforts allowed the other forces to escape." Fili said, smiling at his brother.

"This is by far my favorite part." Kili said, leaning in closer over the fire.

"Hush." Fili said, waiting for silence to surround them as if to set the mood for his next line in the story. "They were warriors of an ever-growing wasteland, hellfire licking at their heels as they battled. Azaghâl, King of the dwarves of Belegost, gathered his dwarven army in a circle around the beast. They fought with fortified strength, containing Glaurung with their might and wit despite his towering stature and menacing nature." Fili said quietly. Then, as if to mimic the might of the dwarves, he blared out in a loud voice, "They lifted their weapons overhead, coming down on the beast from all sides in a unified effort. With each swing and slash of their axes and swords, they were able to inflict pain though they could not penetrate his armor." Fili said, thrashing his arms around as if in battle.

"Glaurung winced in rage, bested by these small peoples he so eagerly fought to destroy. In his frenzy, he darted towards Azaghâl, attempting to trample him with weight as neither his fire nor spells could kill the king." By now Fili's eyes were wild with emotion, shooting Kili a look of desperation. "Though faced with certain death, Azaghâl saw an opportunity and seized it, piercing a dagger through the dragon's fleshy underbelly and sending him fleeing in anguish. Either out of fear or dedication, his fathered serpents followed him as well, back to the darkness from which they were bred."

Out of respect for their fallen ancestors, the brothers looked up to the heavens with solemn expressions. "With his final act, Azaghâl had perished under Glaurung's crushing weight. Our ancestors halted their fighting, intent on returning their king's body to their homeland for a proper burial amongst the halls of the Blue Mountains. Their grief was so immense, so terrible, that none sought to attack them in their marching. The lives of the elves and men had been spared at the cost of one of the greatest leaders our race has ever held." Fili said, finishing the story with a downcast stare once more at the fire near his feet.

"The evil of this world will continue to seek out the weak, the gullible." Fili mentioned after a few moments. "Dwarves were not created to be so. Let us pray to Mahal we do not experience anything different in our reclaiming of the mountain."

Kili looked at his brother through wisps of fallen hair, casting thin shadows on his face. "The dragon sickness claimed our grandfather and his father before him. How can we be so sure the sickness hasn't spread, infecting the blood that runs through our very veins?" Kili asked, whispering the words so as to make the truth held within them less evident.

"We can't be sure. There is no way of knowing. Our mother was not privy to the sickness and our father's line of kin never suffered from such a curse. For all we know, we should be purged of it. As for Thorin..." Fili trailed off, not wanting to discuss the possibility of their uncle losing himself to the mountain and its treasure hoard. This was something serious that needed preparation in order to be dealt with, though neither brother wanted to end the first day of their journey with such a dismal issue.

They sat in quiet with the crackling of the fire. Kili reached behind himself to fish another piece of firewood out of the darkness. Putting it on the diminishing flames, he coaxed the embers until they took hold of the fresh piece of wood, reinstating the warmth once more. Alone to their fears and worries, they sat for a good while in contemplation.

"I suppose it's my turn." Kili said quietly.

"That's not necessary, Kili. We should probably get to sleep." Fili said, packing his pipe and tobacco back into his belongings.

"Aye we should. How about I tell it as we lie down, a bedtime story of sorts." He offered, moving some of his things onto his bed roll to form a makeshift pillow.

Fili thought for a moment, eager for sleep yet wanting to clear his mind of its newfound troubles. "Alright." And with that, he followed suit, rolling up his cloak as a pillow and lying down on the roll.

"We need a happy tale. One to send us off to sleep with a smile." Kili said, looking up at the stars.

Fili closed his eyes in wait, letting the feeling of sleep slowly seep into his core. Kili spoke up after a few moments of thought, quiet in tone. "I guess it's not so much a story as it is a memory; I can't seem to think of a story on queue."

"S'not so easy is it?" Fili said, giving his brother a one-eyed smirk before resting his head down once again.

Kili stuck his tongue out at his brother, though Fili missed the action entirely. "I was thinking back to my time as a boy. Our talk of training earlier had me recall the first spar with Uncle when I was fifteen or so. I was fairly good with the offensive moves, catching him off guard every so often. But he was relentless, and I found myself weak before half the match was over. I had always thought him to be an old man, considering how youthful I was. I didn't expect his stamina." He said, looking over at his brother who looked to be asleep but had a small smile on his face.

"Thorin swung at me, and I had anticipated the blow yet I thought it would come from the other direction. Mistakenly, I sidestepped right into the path of his sword. I wasn't very good at blocking, mind you." He said, expecting to see Fili looking at him with an amused expression. He just smiled softly, listening to his brother's words.

"Thorin stopped just in time, otherwise he surely would have taken my arm clean off. Instead I was left with a deep gash in my left shoulder. I was so embarrassed in the moment of it, but now I'm almost grateful that my first scar came from Uncle. It's almost like a rite of passage." Kili absentmindedly rubbed his arm, imagining where the scar lay beneath the fabric.

"I recall going to Oin to have my arm looked at. He had that damned ear trumpet back then, too. How is it he hasn't completely fallen deaf?" Kili asked more to himself than to his brother.

"One of the world's many mysteries." Fili chimed in with a sleepy drawl.

"Aye, that it is. He'll probably need two trumpets soon enough." Kili said with a laugh. "Anyway, I was sent to Oin to have my arm stitched up and the wound tended to. I walked into his chambers, telling him I needed to have him take a look at my cut." He began, choking out a laugh at the sentences to come. "He left to get some tools and returned a few moments later with giant forceps, ointments, blades, and a bunch of other tools with an assistant in tow. He directed me to take off my shirt and lie down, which I did, before he came over to me and started measuring my stomach." At this Kili shook his head, recalling his complete confusion during the incident.

"He told the assistant to prepare me for the operation, directing which drugs to administer, before commenting on where he would make the incision on my stomach. I sat up, pushing him away and yelling 'what in Mahal are you doing?' before standing to make my way towards the door." Kili said in a dramatic voice, trying to make the story as realistic as he could.

"The poor old dwarf just stared at me with annoyance, wanting me to get back on the table. He commented on my arm, telling me he would tend to that as well. I asked him, rather franticly, 'what did you think I came here for if not for my arm? I asked you to take a look at my cut.' He just stared at me with those old, knowing eyes - he'll bore a hole straight through you with them - and looked to his assistant. She shrugged her shoulders and set about organizing the medicines before her. He then said to me, 'You mean you don't want me to have a look at yer gut?' Can you believe it? He was ready to cut me open like a freshly slain buck without so much as gaining my consent." Kili asked, bewildered once again.

He looked briefly over to Fili who raised his eyebrows slightly and shook his head. His brother was falling asleep, but he carried on anyway. "He tended to my arm, though I was terrified he'd end up chopping it off, and I was on my way. Mother explained to me that night of his hearing disability. I suppose I had known of it before, I had seen him using his trumpet, but I never thought to make a point of speaking clearly to him and ensuring he knew what I wanted from him." Kili said, turning on his side to face the fire and his brother.

Quiet snores began to escape Fili's lips, Kili smiling at his brother's sleeping form. It seemed the only time Fili ever truly let go of his worries and hardened stance was in his sleep, free from the restraints of responsibility. He closed his eyes as well, hoping sleep would take him just as swiftly as it had his brother.

He wondered if Fili was dreaming of his friend again, the ginger girl. Long gone were the days he spent harboring jealousy over her, but he wished he could experience what Fili saw and felt. He had never been close to finding his woman, though he knew Fili had never truly been either. They both had their equal shares of scorned love and failed attempts, but Kili had never found a female friend like his brother had. Though the girl was not real, at least not to their knowledge, she offered Fili some sort of friendship unlike the friendship they held as kin.

"Perhaps I'll find someone on this quest." He thought to himself. "Mother always says that good things happen when you least expect them to. I just hope she's right."

And with that, the youngest Durin brother fell into a deep sleep aside the dying embers of the fire, thoughts of women and dragons running rampant through his mind.


	6. The Wizard and The Market

Bilbo was just about ready to head out into town. He had his cup of tea, did a bit of light reading, and now was sitting back into his bench on the front porch with a pipe in hand. He had already gotten dressed and made a list of things to get and would set off towards Hobbiton in a short while. The morning was still early, and many hobbits were just now emerging from their respective holes to start their days. He and Hayden had gotten an early start; now he just had to wait for the rest of the Shire to catch up.

The weather was looking promising and he thought to invite Hayden along for a more relaxing day. He knew she wouldn't agree; they would have no wood for tonight and she would have no distraction to work her further down the road to recovery. He sighed as he pushed the thought away, puffing out circular rings into the air with ease. As a small hobbit he had always seen his father and grandfather do the same thing, but he always thought the rings resembled front doors. Now he focused on making them perfectly spherical, concentrated on the skill rather than the imagery.

A perfectly round puff of smoke left his lips, floating off into the air as if to join the clouds in the sky. At this accomplishment, he sat up straighter on the bench and took another drag, letting out a lazy cloud of fog. He closed his eyes, sighing softly and letting a smile grow on his face. Crickets chirped in the early morning air, not quite ready for the cover of night to be over. A refreshing spring scent swirled in the air, slightly humid with the evening's dew. Today was going to be quite the nice day.

Suddenly, the smoke came back to hit him in the face, swelling up into his nostrils and almost slapping his cheek. He opened his eyes with a wince, unsure as to why the smoke had come back at him so violently before noticing a very tall, grey man standing before him on the other side of the gate. He had to be of the race of men for he had facial hair and was tall, meaning he could neither be a dwarf nor an elf. His hat was fairly large and came to a point, matching his grey robes and tunic exactly in shade and hue. The staff he held in his hand was fairly intricate, and Bilbo wondered if it had always been used as a walking stick.

He had not heard the man approach nor had he announced his arrival. The man just stood there, peering down at the hobbit in expectation. Bilbo considered he must have been so lost in tranquility with his pipe that he missed the man's greeting. As if to make up for this, he blurted out, "Good morning."

The man quirked his head slightly, fully exposing his eyes from the brim of his large pointy hat. "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" The man said rather promptly.

Bilbo stared at him in disorientation; was he drunk or mentally unsound?

The man continued on. "Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once, I suppose." Bilbo said with an air of uncertainty. He didn't want to say none of the explanations were fitting, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what any of them meant.

"Hmm..." The man hummed, placing a hand on his hip and peering down at the hobbit as though he were waiting for an invitation to join him on the bench or enter his house.

He looked at the man, wondering what on earth he needed. He seemed intent on something, though Bilbo wasn't quite sure what. Perhaps he was lost in some way just as Hayden had been, unsure as to who or where he was; he certainly couldn't decide what he wanted out of a morning greeting. Though he didn't quite want another one of Hayden's cases on his hands, he felt inclined to assist the old man if he could.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked as politely, ignoring the fact that his morning smoke had been interrupted by this strange man.

"That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The man replied, eyes twinkling.

Bilbo stared at the old man for a moment, the words that had just escaped his lips flying right over the poor hobbit's head. After realizing the old man was not lost or mentally unstable and that he was asking Bilbo to go on a spontaneous holiday, he got his wits about him. There was no way he was leaving the Shire or Hayden or his home, especially with this old grey man. Who in their right mind would do such a thing in the first place? Who did this man think he was?

"An adventure? No I don't imagine anyone west of Bree will have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things." He said as he stood and opened his mailbox, hoping there would be something of particular significance inside that would give him an excuse to be rid of the stranger. "Make you late for dinner." He added, as if to offer another excuse for his polite refusal.

He shuffled through his mail, finding nothing of interest other than an invitation to a gathering of the Bolger family. He searched through the pile once more, making noises of surprise and inquiry to convince the man he was indeed a very busy hobbit. The man just stood and watched, waiting for some reaction that Bilbo was not willing to give.

Taking a quick puff on his pipe, he looked up at the man to signify the end of their conversation. "Well...good morning." Bilbo said, turning away and walking up the steps into his house.

"To think that I should have lived to be 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son; as if I were selling buttons at the door!" The man replied, obviously offended at Bilbo's hasty dismissal.

"Beg your pardon?" Bilbo said, mail in one hand and pipe in the other. It was not often people mentioned his mother, let alone someone he did not even know.

"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins, and not entirely for the better." The man said almost disapprovingly, as if he expected some other hobbit to live in this home bearing the name Bilbo Baggins and he was distraught at the disappointment that stood before him.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Bilbo asked, trying to recall the last time he had spoken to an old man who was not a hobbit. He couldn't recall his mother having any acquaintances matching the man's appearance either.

"Well you know my name although you don't remember I belong to it. I am Gandalf. And Gandalf means..." The man said, grunting a bit as he grasped for the right word, "...me."

"Gandalf? Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on midsummer's eve!" Bilbo said, recalling how coincidental this was considering he and Hayden had just discussed his grandfather's parties mere weeks ago. Perhaps this was fate telling him he was to continue on with the parties, seeking out the wizard's fireworks once more.

Gandalf nodded and murmured comments of agreement at Bilbo's sudden remembrance of him. Bilbo waved his pipe around in the air. "I had no idea you were still in business." This man must have been older than dirt if he had been around merely fifty years ago and was aged then as well.

"And where else should I be?" Gandalf retorted instantaneously, not happy with Bilbo's insinuation at his evident age.

"Well..." Bilbo trailed off, having misspoke and made such a rude comment. Though honest, he hadn't meant for the old man to become offended. In his awkward embarrassment, he puffed on his pipe in an attempt to fill the silence.

"Well I am pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks." Gandalf said with a slightly disheartened tone. He had expected the hobbit to remember a lot more considering how often he would visit when he was a child and how he had loved to play and watch the wizard's conjuring of magic and tricks.

"Yes. Well that's decided. It'll be very good for you," Gandalf said, pointing at Bilbo to which the hobbit looked around in confusion, "and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others." He finished, gathering his robes as if to walk off with no further explanation.

"Inform the - what, no. No. No, wait. We do not want _any_ adventures here, thank you. Not today. No - I suggest you try over the hill or across the water." Bilbo stammered, trying to briskly yet politely get his refusal across to the old man. Not once had he even suggested that he was interested in this adventure. In an attempt to hold back his frustration at Gandalf's persistence and ignorance, he waved his pipe around in the air as if to wave the wizard on down the road.

"Good morning." Bilbo said once again, rushing into his hobbit hole and shutting the door with a thump.

He locked the bolts immediately, waiting a moment in silence to hear if the wizard would try to follow. He didn't hear scurrying up the steps and no one tried to burst inside, and so Bilbo figured Gandalf had left. That is until he heard the light scratching on the wood of the door, almost as if a small rodent were trying to burrow its way inside. A pang of worry rose inside of him, and he dropped the mail in the windowsill as he rushed over to the side window. He couldn't see anything - there was no wizard nor rodent on the other side of the threshold.

Suddenly, a large grey-blue eye was peering back at him, magnified by the curve of the window's glass. Bilbo leapt back in fright into the hallway, his heart rising into his throat and beating faster than he thought possible. The blasted wizard had been there all along. What had he been doing? Perhaps he was trying to pick the lock or was intent on breaking in at the cover of night - Bilbo couldn't be sure. He didn't take the man as a thief yet he displayed some rather odd and forceful behavior.

After a few moments of waiting with no wizard crashing through the door or window, Bilbo continued in through the parlor to view him from another angle. Much to his surprise, the man was walking quickly down the steps, humming lightly to himself before shutting the front gate rather politely and continuing on down the road. Bilbo looked around in search of some explanation though nothing in his house held the answers he needed. He did not like this wizard's appearance one bit and was set on keeping an eye out should he return.

Bilbo ruffled his nose as if to reset his composure before realizing that Hayden was still outside. Gandalf had continued on down the road in the direction she was around the side of his home. Would he pester her about going on an adventure? Would he try to use her as leverage? Bilbo severely doubted the wizard would harm or kidnap the girl but he didn't want to take any chances when it came to his friend. She had dealt with hobbits before but he didn't know how she'd handle a possibly unstable old man full of illusions and tricks and who knows what else.

He made the hurried decision to carry on into town, a perfect excuse to get himself and Hayden out of the home and away from the wizard's gaze; they could blend into the crowd of hobbits if need be. Surely Hayden wouldn't mind chopping firewood later in the day - he wasn't about to let her say otherwise. Rushing through the kitchen and down the hall, he practically ran outside to get the girl before the wizard could find her. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

Hayden found the axe in the shed, just as Bilbo had told her. There were logs stacked up near the back in full abundance; nearly twenty trees laid before her, filling the little unit to the brim. She wondered briefly what else lay in the shed underneath and behind the logs but ignored the thought. She needed to get to work.

Since there were so many logs and not a great deal of space in the surrounding area to pile them up, she decided that chopping one log at a time would be the most logistic way to do things. Grabbing one log firmly and sliding it towards her, she tilted it up against the others and rapped her arms around. The log was fairly heavy - heavier than Hayden had expected - but she managed to drag it along without trouble. Dragging it outside to a relatively flat area free from gardens and obstructions, she dropped it to retrieve the axe.

Her father had chopped wood as far back as she could remember, even when they didn't seem to need it. When she was small she just figured it was something he enjoyed doing or something he wanted to have stocked up in case of emergencies. While both of these assumptions were correct, he told her when she had grown older that it was therapeutic for him. Chopping wood was straightforward, albeit a tedious task, and let him focus on the precision of his swing while also giving him a physical work out. He enjoyed the time, finding he could dwell on troubles or questions that had been floating around in his mind, things he had put away for another day but failed to ever uncover.

Her mind wandered back fifteen years ago to a moment she never thought she would hold so dearly. She could recall offering to help him when she was eight or so, dragging out one of the other axes that sat in the shed behind their home with quite a bit of difficulty. He had laughed at the sight of her, his great booming voice filling the forest.

"What are ya' doin', lass?" He said, resting his own axe against the chopping block in front of him.

"I want to help. Mother told me I could." She replied, struggling to pull the axe behind her.

He approached her with a smile, reaching out to take the axe from her slipping palms.

"No!" She shouted at him with a shaking head. "Let me do it."

With a proud smile, he stood back and watched her struggle with the tool. He saw both himself and his wife in her, stubborn and steadfast with a heart of pure gold. She always tried to do right by her parents and herself, staying true to their morals and growing graciously into the world around her. She was the daughter every hard working father dreamed of raising.

After dragging the axe over, she rested it against her father's with a light huff. Turning to face him with a sweaty grin, she waited for him to instruct her further.

"I think that axe is a bit too large for your small hands, love." He said, reaching around his belt to unholster the small one he had at his hip. "Why don't you try this one?" He held it out to her with knowing eyes. She would never admit to needing something smaller or child-sized; she tried so desperately to be an adult and work as hard as he did.

"But adad, it's a bit...I don't know." She said, taking it from his large fingers and turning it over in her own. "Wimpy." She finished, looking up at him with a look of slight annoyance.

He laughed aloud once more, amused at her description of the tool. "Hayden, let me tell you something." He said, walking over to a wooden bench near the side of the house. He motioned for her to follow, which she happily did with the small axe in hand.

"May I see that?" He asked, reaching out for the axe. She handed it over to him, glad to be rid of the small, inadequate tool.

"Does this axe not have a blade?" He questioned, lightly running his fingers down the edge of the sharp metal.

"Yes." She answered, confused as to why he was asking her such a silly thing.

"Does that one over there not have a blade as well?" He asked once more, pointing to the large axe with the smaller one in hand.

Again she answered, "Yes."

"And do they each not have handles for which to hold them?" He asked, running his thumb along the worn wood of the small axe.

"Well yes, of course they do. How else would you use the axe attached to the end?" She inquired with a raise of her brow.

"Then tell me lass, how is this axe 'wimpy,' as you put it? It has the same components as others." He asked, laying the axe down between them on the bench.

"Well its smaller, for one thing, which means it's not as powerful or destructive. Plus the handle is plain - those over there have carvings and special metalwork." She said, pointing with a finger.

"Aye, 'tis smaller than the others. And it does not have embellishments." He said, offering her an apologetic look.

She stared back at him openly, unsure as to where this conversation was headed. She didn't see any point in haggling over the differences between the axes. Why weren't they just getting to work?

"And?" He asked, urging her to continue in the line of thought they were headed.

"And that's why it's wimpy." She offered back, wanting to move on from this analysis of axes.

He let out a swift sigh before grabbing the small axe and standing. "Stay here. Close your eyes." He walked away to the chopping block, turning around to the small girl watching from the bench. "Closed." He said once again, pointing at her.

She rolled her eyes before closing them as she was told, impatient with this whole charade. Two loud smacks followed, the sound of metal against wood ringing in the silence of the forest. At first she flinched, not expecting her father to start chopping wood. Then she felt the restlessness wash over her, eager to help yet ever obedient.

She heard her father's footsteps clunk towards her, stopping a few feet away. "You may open them." He said.

He stood before her, two small freshly cut logs in each of his hands. "Can you tell me the difference between these two logs here?" He questioned, offering them to her for her to inspect.

She gave him a slightly cantankerous look before studying the logs. Both were relatively the same size and most likely cut from the same piece of wood. The cuts were clean and precise, leaving no trace of struggle or wavering from the axe's penetration.

"No. They're relatively the same." She answered hesitantly, as if she knew she were missing something.

"Are you sure?" He asked, a knowing smile on his face.

She simply nodded, crossing her arms in wait for an explanation. "Which axe do you think I used?" He inquired.

She shrugged her shoulders before answering in a questioning tone. "Your favorite one. The one with the writing and the blue leather on the end of the haft."

He looked between the two logs, as if to look more closely at them. "You're sure there are no differences between the logs?"

She smiled at him, knowing he was dragging out this conversation - or lesson. "Da come on."

He smiled back at her. "If these here logs are similar in practically every way, then how is it they came to be chopped with two different blades?"

The smile on her face vanished in an instant, confusion taking over. "What?" She inquired.

He held out the log in his right hand first. "This one was chopped with my axe." She looked at it for a brief moment before he pulled the log in his left hand into her line of sight. "And this one with your wimp of a weapon."

She looked at him in disbelief, amusement threatening to take over. "Adad stop joking. Why can't we just get to work?"

He set the logs down on the ground and found his spot next to her once more. "I'm not joking. I chopped each of those from the same tree using two different axes."

She couldn't believe the small, worn axe had done such a fine job cutting through the wood. She proposed to herself that this was due to the fact that her father was a fine craftsman - practically everything he did exuded confidence and accuracy.

"But...why?" She asked, looking out to the small axe perched against the chopping block. It was dwarfed by the other two axes resting near.

"Because I wanted to teach you something." He said with a pause, reaching to take his daughter's hand in his.

She always loved holding hands with her father. His palms and fingers were hardened with calluses, shaped with the dedication and passion he put into every aspect of life. She knew his hands to be strong and protective, comforting her in times of need or encouragement. They held both her and her mother every night before bed, instilling his appreciation and admiration for both of them.

"The larger axes may be more appealing to the eye and appear more threatening. They certainly look the part for the tasks they carry out. You did not expect the small axe to do just as fine of a job, did'ja?" He asked with a slight smirk.

"No." She answered quietly, slight embarrassment in her tone.

"This is an important lesson, lass. The size of the blade does not restrict its ability. The decorations and fineries may add to the craftsmanship of the tool itself but not to how it is used. Certainly the war hammer I have hanging over the fireplace is never used yet it is clad in jewels and precious metals alike. It may be worth more because it was purchased and forged for more coin, but it does not see action like it should. It is not used as much as any of these axes here, including the small 'wimpy' one; I use that one near ev'ry day." He said with a sympathetic smile. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" He asked, looking straight into Hayden's hazy green eyes.

"Yes, I think I do. What truly matters is how you use the tool, not how it shapes up in comparison to another." She said raising a brow in question.

He patted the back of her hand, smiling warmly. "Aye. Just as your size does not define your abilities."

At this she blushed, throwing her arms around him in a quick embrace. She stood on the bench, barely towering over him, and placed a wet kiss on his cheek. "I love you Adad. I'm sorry I called your axe wimpy."

He pulled her in for a second embrace as she tried to squirm away, placing a chaste kiss on her head. "I love you too Nâthuê kurdu. Let's get to work now." He said, standing while pulling her along by the hand. "Your mother'll have our heads if we don't do something productive by sundown."

"What does Nâthuê kurdu mean?" She asked, looking up at him with curious eyes.

He smiled down at her, giving her hand a light squeeze. "It means daughter of my heart in a language ancient to our kin. And my heart, dear Hayden, is forever yours."

Hayden stood now in front of Bilbo's shed with the axe in hand. Tears of happiness dripped from her eyes and down her cheeks. She loved her father and always would. He had found the most important life lessons in everyday tasks, always pushing to give her proper guidance and parenting. In many more ways than one she was grateful for his spontaneous life lessons.

Using the happy memory as encouragement, she set to chopping her first log. It had been a while since she had used a weapon and found her arms tiring after a couple of swings. Her cuts weren't as clean as she would have liked, but she figured they'd improve with practice as the day went on.

She rose the axe above her head, bringing it down with the help of gravity. She'd use the same momentum to bring it back over head, pushing with her legs, before letting the blade fall once more. She found herself in a rhythm, chopping and swinging and letting the axe fall in synchronization with her breaths.

She managed to get through the first log, piling the smaller pieces of firewood over by the back entrance to Bilbo's home. She had just drug the second log out from the shed, foot braced upon its left end and axe raised overhead, when the hobbit had come scrambling out of the back door with his hands waving about. The sight of him startled her, and she quickly dropped the axe with a scream.

"Bilbo! What are you doing?" She breathed out, a hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"Sorry, I -" He stammered, holding his own chest and calming his nerves. The wizard had worked him up as it was and the sight of Hayden with an axe raised over her head had only added to the panicked frenzy. "I want you to come into town with me. The wood can wait." There was a sense of urgency in his tone she had not heard before.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, reaching down to pick up the axe she had dropped.

"Uh, yes. Yes." He said, looking around hurriedly. "We should get going." He said, taking a step back towards the house.

"Why? Bilbo you're acting strange. Why do we need to get going?" She asked, walking over to the shed to set the axe inside its doors.

"Well, well...you see I need to make sure I get everything on my list and I'm not so sure I can do it on my own. I'd much rather you come with me - I don't want you staying here by yourself." He said, shaking his head vigorously.

He did not want the wizard to return and try to recruit Hayden or himself into some unsought, unwelcome adventure. The girl wouldn't know exactly what the wizard was insinuating and he was afraid Gandalf would know this all too well and take advantage of her kindness. The best thing now was to leave for a few hours until the wizard had found some other hobbit to partake in his dealings.

"But I've been here by myself before. I've stayed here nearly every time you've gone out into town. What's really going on?" She asked, a hand on her hip in slight irritation at his evasiveness.

"Well if I must be honest," He began, thinking telling the truth might be warranted before deciding against it, "I simply wish to spend more time with you. I feel as though I hardly know you and I think some good, fresh air and some warm conversation would help alleviate that feeling."

She smiled at him, still sure there was something else at work. Not wanting to refuse his offer of friendliness, she nodded in agreement. "Let me go change out of my boots."

"NO. Uh, no we should really get going." He said, wringing his hands slightly. If they stayed on the property out in the open for too long the wizard might see them and come back to pester him once more.

Hayden rolled her eyes slightly, walking past the hobbit into the house. "I'll just be two minutes Bilbo."

He stood there motionless, unsure if he should follow or keep a look out for the wizard. In a split decision, he decided to follow rather than be left exposed outside. He scrambled to his room, finding one of his jackets, before returning to the hallway to wait for Hayden outside her room. Conveniently, a small basket lay in the hall. He picked it up, wanting to be underway and away from the wizard's lurking presence.

She emerged a few moments later, pulling her hair back up into a bun after it had half fallen out from her axe swinging. She smiled at the hobbit, searching for a sign of something in his stance. He was acting very out of character; Hayden figured it was for a good reason.

Smiling back at her, he walked towards the back entrance quite hurriedly, leaving Hayden to loosely jog to keep up. Once she had come outside, he locked the door, checking twice to make sure it was indeed secure. Then they set off walking down the stone path that was invaded with grass and weathered with time.

The sound of singing birds and laughing children filled the air. Hayden noticed a few of them running in fields off in the distance while their mothers tended to suspended clothes lines full of laundry. A few hobbits had taken to the path as well, walking in varying routes in their morning routines or errands. Some had said hello, though most of them just gave a polite nod or wave. Hayden would smile yet Bilbo didn't seem to return any of the greetings, looking around worriedly in all directions. In fact he wasn't walking as casually as he usually did, instead acting as though he were on a mission or were running late for something. A few times he would stop completely, slowly building back up to a brisk walk after Hayden had continued on without him.

Bilbo couldn't stop worrying about where the wizard had gone off to. He had seen him leave Bag End but had not watched to see where he went. Surely he had gone to bother another hobbit or perhaps another person in another town, but Bilbo wasn't confident in his assumptions. It was the uncertainty that had him scrambling down the road with Hayden in tow. He was much too anxious to try and walk normally though he couldn't bring himself to admit what was truly bothering him and why he had insisted she come with him.

So as to keep up the act, he turned to her with a hurried smile. "What's your favorite color, if you have one?" What a stupid question to ask. He mentally kicked himself as the words left his mouth, but he couldn't find anything else to say at the moment. He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into the hole he was digging himself.

Hayden looked back at him with a half-opened mouth. She had been expecting him to ask about her life - that was the whole reason he had wanted her to go into town with him - yet this was something so trivial and bland she found herself almost insulted by the question.

"I don't know, if I'm being honest." She said after thinking for a moment. "I know I used to love blue, deep like the shade of your jacket, but I find myself more and more attracted to green."

Bilbo didn't look back at her, instead whipping his head around from side to side in search of something tall and grey as they round a corner towards the lake. "And why is that?" He asked, clutching his basket tighter.

"Well I'm surrounded by it." She said with a laugh. "How can I not fall in love with the color of life that touches everything here."

At this he smiled, not expecting her kind and thoughtful words. Usually he made such comments on his walks, enjoying the scenery and appreciating just how beautiful his homeland was. Now he was in fear of it, wanting desperately to go back and hide in his hole yet wanting to be as far away from home as he could.

"Do you have a favorite food?" He asked after a few silent moments. They were now walking down a hill, approaching the outskirts of the marketplace where quite a crowd of hobbits already gathered.

"I would have to say seafood is one of my favorite kinds, though your pie is a close tie for second." She said, nudging him lightly with her elbow. Whatever this strange mood was that had taken hold of him, she was attempting to bring him out of it with playfulness.

He didn't seem to notice, walking faster down the path. "And what else is tied in second?" He asked, looking briefly behind himself to make sure she was following.

"Blackberries." She said with a smile.

"Blackberries are one of my favorites as well." He offered, his feet scurrying underneath him.

She hurried to keep his pace. "I used to fish with my parents. We'd have brilliant suppers afterwards, frying and baking the types of fish we'd catch and roasting vegetables over a fire. We liked to call them camp meals, though we never truly camped. We'd have them at least once a year though in summer, making a whole day trip of it." She said, offering a bit of insight into her life. "Every time I eat fish I'm reminded of the first time I caught one on my own; I ate every inch of it with a bit of lemon like my dad did, sucking on the rind afterwards."

"I used to eat lemons like apples as a child; it drove my mother mad." Bilbo said, thinking back to a time he had peeled a lemon and eaten it like an orange. "My mother was repulsed; she'd take it away from me and tell me if I continued to eat the things that my lips would shrivel up and fall off." At this he chuckled, shaking his head.

"My mother used to have to pry me out of the blackberry bushes that surrounded our house." Hayden said, taking the chance to continue the conversation. "I used to go out and pick them for her but usually ended up eating everything I had picked and then some. I used to look as though I had smeared black paint all over my face and it had dripped down my front." She said, her mouth slightly salivating at the thought of the berry. "I think those bushes were picked clean by the end of summer; it's a miracle anything grew after I had gotten a hold of them."

"We sound like a pair of strange gluttons." Bilbo said, giving her a warm smile before focusing again on the path. Perhaps his trivial conversation had proved to be productive after all.

She had been to Hobbiton a few times with Bilbo, accompanying him to buy groceries as well as some medicinal supplies he had wanted to restock on. Nearly every time he had forgotten to buy tea, saying he would do so when he went out again. Seeing as she hadn't gone with him on most of his trips, she wasn't there to remind him; this time she would be.

They were nearing the bridge into the market, passing by a small stage where plays were about to begin to entertain and enthrall the children and a few adults. Behind it sat various shops that were open nearly every day, not just during the open market. These included the apothecary, a small smithing shop, and a doctor's quarters.

The other side of the bridge was fairly loud, full of cheering children, haggling customers, and merry conversations. There were many a stall set up underneath colorful tents while a line of booths sat out in the late morning sun. Hayden could smell a variety of things in the air - peaches and apples, sawdust, fish, and, surprisingly, sweet onion.

They both stopped near the lake, looking around at the different merchants. "Do you need to buy soap in the apothecary?" Hayden asked, looking down at the hobbit who was scanning the crowd rather intently.

"No. Well, I can. But I like the soap that Mrs. Bucksbeet sells every other month; she should be somewhere over there." He replied, pointing over to the far left side of the market.

"Oh okay." Hayden responded, squinting into the distance. She wasn't sure what or whom she was looking for, but she followed his finger nonetheless. "What else is it that you need?" She asked.

"Let's see..." He said, feeling around on his person for his list. He turned nearly every pocket inside out and couldn't find the piece of parchment with the list he had so diligently put together. In his haste of leaving, he had forgotten it.

"I seem to have forgotten it at home..." He said with a sigh. If it hadn't been for Gandalf he would have had everything going according to plan. This day would not have been so scattered about.

"Well I know you need tea." She said with a slight chuckle. "And obviously soap. What were you saying about your pants earlier?" She questioned, trying to recall what he had been blabbering on about this morning when she walked in the kitchen.

"My pants?" Bilbo questioned rather loudly, causing some of the other hobbits to look at him rather abruptly with strange expressions. Some of them even looked around to his backside, wondering if he had a gaping hole in his trousers.

"Yes, you were saying something about your pants ripping this morning..." Hayden said quietly, giving some of the surrounding hobbits a slight smile as if to apologize for Bilbo's random outburst.

He ran the events over in his head, trying to block out the pressing matter with Gandalf. "Ah, yes. I was saying I should stock up on thread should my pants rip. It's the little things you don't think about until you need them." He said, beginning to walk over towards the stand where the soap was.

Hayden followed, looking around the market as if for the first time. On her first visits into Hobbiton, she had focused mainly on the people and their hard work. Now it was as if she was finally noticing the community, how it all tied together so effortlessly. Everyone supported one another whether it was in monetary or emotional value. She would hear one hobbit suggesting another's work to a customer and then where to find them in the market and another offering to give away goods for trade of labor. She had come to know that hobbits adored their belongings and enjoyed having lavish statuses to boast about yet everyone here seemed to truly care about one another.

Mrs. Bucksbeet was a lovely woman, aging gracefully and beaming with pride. Her hair was grey and curly, tucked neatly up in her hat save for a stray piece at the back of her neck. She wore small glasses that had half-moon lenses which sat at the end of her large nose. It seemed she'd rather crane her neck in various positions rather than simply reposition the glasses. Hayden figured she was set in her ways.

She had plenty of soap neatly stacked in towering piles behind the counter, a sample of each lain out before her for customers to examine. Hayden picked up a light pink one freckled with dark red spots.

"That should be my rose soap; infused with petals, that is." She said, watching as Hayden lifted it to smell.

"It smells beautiful! Like a fresh bouquet." She said, handing it back to the woman with a smile.

Mrs. Bucksbeet smiled in return, winking at Hayden. "I have your favorite, Mr. Baggins." She said, leaning down to place a handful of soaps in front of him. "Sage and lemongrass."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, very much." He took each and every one of them, placing them in his basket. "I'll take two of the rose ones as well."

"Will you, now?" She said, questioning him with squinting eyes.

"Yes. For Hayden." He said, gesturing to the girl with his eyes.

Hayden blushed. "Bilbo that's not necessary. I don't need special soap, I can use yours or make my own from your flowers."

"Nonsense. You like the smell of it and you deserve something for all the hard work you do. It is no trouble at all, really." He said, taking two bricks from the old woman.

"That there was your mother's favorite. Bought it in blocks, she did." Mrs. Bucksbeet said, placing a hand on her hip.

"I know." Bilbo said with a smile. He could remember their storage room full of rose colored soap and stinking beautifully of it.

He dug around in his coin purse, pulling out money and handing it to the woman. She took it, clasping both her hands around Bilbo's. "You have her eyes." She said, giving his hand a slight pat. "And her spirit."

At this Bilbo smiled, forgetting about the wandering wizard for a moment. "It's good to see you. Take care." He said, dropping the coins when she had let go and walked off down the line of merchants.

"Thank you, Bilbo." Hayden said behind him.

He simply waved his hand, dismissing any further protest from her. They stopped at another merchant a few aisles over, buying various shades of thread. Hayden inquired if he needed needles as well, to which the hobbit was unsure. He bought four, just in case, and stuck them in the sides of the small spools of thread in his basket.

Bilbo had resumed his strange stance and stare, searching the crowd for something or someone and tending to the shadows. Hayden thought it strange but let it be for now; there would be no use making a scene in front of other people.

"I should go see about ordering some more wood." He said, scratching his head slightly. He didn't see Mr. Oakbottom's stall anywhere and figured one of his sons might be over near the lake rather than inside the cluster of merchants.

Not wanting to expose Hayden outside of the crowd in case the wizard were nearby, he opted to leave her to look around in the market. "Why don't you stay here and I'll see to my other business. Here." he said, taking her hand and placing a few coins in her palm. "If you find anything you like go ahead and buy it."

She offered him the coins back, shaking her head. "No, Bilbo. I don't need anything."

He rose his hands in protest, as if taking the coins back would scorn his skin. "Take them, please. Go look around." He said, shooing her off as he stepped backwards.

Hayden sighed, closing her fingers around the coins and putting them into her pocket. She watched as Bilbo weaved in and out of the crowd towards the bridge, looking back at her a few times. She looked around in search of something, anything, that would pique her interest. This was the first time she had truly been alone out in the world, surrounded by the eyes and ears of other beings. It felt foreign and unknown, yet it didn't scare her as much as she thought it would. Perhaps this was because she was not expecting to be alone and didn't have time to dwell on or dread the feeling.

She walked around in what felt like circles, though she hadn't come upon the same stall twice. Children ran through the crowd chasing one another with sticks and toys; a few hobbits walked with animals in tow. Hayden came upon an older man trying to unload bushels of vegetables from a large cart. Though the bushels weren't very large, the man seemed to be struggling with them, tipping a few over in the cart and scrambling to gather the fallen carrots and beets before they were accidentally trampled on.

She ran over to him, kneeling down to help him pick up the fallen food. "Let me help you." She said, dropping the vegetables in their empty container and taking some from the man's arms.

"Thank you, Miss." He said in relief. His voice was sweet and thick, like syrup.

"May I help you unload this?" She said, gesturing to the cart.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly ask for your help." He said, shaking his head.

"You don't need to ask, I'm offering." She said with a toothy grin. The man simply repaid her with a smile of his own, a tooth missing in the front.

He nodded slowly. "Alright."

She picked one barrel up with ease. "Carrots." She said, looking at the man for direction.

He looked around his stall already full of fruits. "How about over there, on the northern side of the counter."

She set the barrel down on the counter as instructed, going back for another in the cart. "Onions?"

"Those go down on the ground - in the front is fine." He said, gesturing with his hat. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

She continued unloading the cart, putting the various containers down where he had instructed. It didn't take her very long, maybe half an hour at best. When the cart was empty, she pushed it around to the back behind his fruits and vegetables and out of the way.

He followed her, handing out a few coins to her. "Thank you ever so much, Miss. I'm afraid my years of farming and coming to market are catching up with me."

She smiled at him; he reminded her of Miss Lieuellan. Humble, hard working, and honest. "I can't take those." She said with a slight nod of her head. "I didn't help you for the money."

He smiled wide once more, offering the coins again to her. "I know you didn't, that's why you must take them."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the man simply walked forward and placed them in her hands just as Bilbo had. "It's not much, but I appreciate the help all the same. You've made an old man a less tired one." He said, turning back to his stall to greet an approaching customer.

She touched his arm in a silent thank you, putting the coins in her pocket. She would spend these coins, for she had earned them, but was reluctant to touch the ones from Bilbo. Her parents had taught her to work for what she wanted - handouts were only granted to those in true need. Right now, she didn't find herself in need of anything.

Finding herself lost in a sea of goods, she found herself pulling at the sleeves of her borrowed tunic to make sure her bruises were covered. There was no doubt that someone had seen traces of them on her wrists, but if her arms were fully exposed she may get a more than a questioning glance. After a few moments of fidgeting, she roamed the market once more.

Reluctant to get too close to the stalls, she walked down the aisles aimlessly, looking at various housewares and items of clothing for sale. If possible, she wanted to buy something for Bilbo with the money she had earned yet she couldn't think of what. There were beautiful coats and elaborate pipes and polished tea sets and crystal kitchenware and even a tea kettle perch - something she knew Bilbo actually needed. Everything she saw either exuded luxurious or lavish styles or was something Bilbo already owned. Either way, it seemed it was an expense she didn't quite have to spare at the moment.

At the end of one of the aisles, she found a small fragile looking hobbit sitting on a stool, thread and bits of fabric spewing out from her in all directions. She wore a light blue dress that hung well below her feet, gathering in a small pool at her ankles; her slightly boney knees poked out gently from the fabric. It appeared she had lost her teeth and her eyesight must not have been well either, for she held the piece of cloth up to her face and was nearly poking herself in the eye with the needle in her left hand. Her hands shook slightly, though Hayden couldn't tell if it was due to old age, focus, or fear that she would poke her eye out.

Hayden watched the woman, sitting and humming a quiet tune, with admiration. Her shop was not busy nor was the woman in a hurry to finish her needlework, yet something about her small stature and composure spoke volumes; hobbits were small as it was yet she was not boasting about, in a constant worry that others would see her in such a vulnerable state and think her lesser of a hobbit for it. Instead she sat, content with herself and her needlework, working ever so slowly to produce something no one was standing around in wait for.

Hayden smiled, taking a step back into the crowd now making its way over to a stall whose owner had stood on the counter, roaring about a finished end table that needed a new house to sit in.

"Ya don' haf 'ta go." The woman called, still focused intently on her piece of cloth inches away from her nose. "I quite like the comp'ny."

Hayden turned around quickly, looking back down at the woman. Surely she was not blind, but Hayden hadn't seen the woman acknowledge her presence or any one else's for that matter. Her voice was frail but sturdy amongst the laughing and bumbling stream of hobbits nearby.

She took a few steps forwards, bring her hand up to cover the sun that was peering into her eyes. "What are you making?" Hayden asked.

The woman bobbled her head back and forth, as if in contemplation, before sticking her tongue out in slight frustration. "I think this'll be a napkin. Or per'aps a nice hank'a'chiff." She said, focused as ever.

Hayden moved to a squat, sitting down slowly onto the trodden ground. "It looks lovely - I love your work around the edges." She said, pointing at the edges of the thin piece of burlap material that were covered in simple yet immaculate embroidery. "How long did this take you?"

The woman glanced up at her for a brief moment before looking back down to her work. "Been 'ere since early morn'. 'Magine its taken me an 'our or two. Prolly more." She said.

"Who is it for?" Hayden asked, propping a hand on her knee to which her chin fell into.

"No one. Sometimes I git a customer or two but," She said, nodding her head slightly, "I don' do this for the coin. I do it 'ta pass the time and 'ave somethin' accomplished at the end of the day. Also for the sun. Does a soul good 'ta bask in it."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Hayden watching how the old woman's hands gingerly and patiently weaved in and out of the material, having to relocate the correct golden thread amidst the maze of a sea that laid around her now and again. This woman was not poor by the judge of her clothing, yet she was out here in the heat making things for herself or an invisible buyer.

"If no one buys your creations, what do you do with them?" Hayden asked, absentmindedly picking up a stray spool near the woman's feet and fidgeting with it.

"I us'ly give things 'ta the less fort'nate. Though there aren't many 'ere in the Shire." She said, giving Hayden a wide toothless grin. "'Ta be honest my family has a lot a bits an' pieces lying 'bout in their houses. As do I." She said, grinning to herself once more.

"Do you have any plans for this napkin? Or handkerchief?" Hayden asked, placing the lost spool of thread against the woman's box of things.

"Can't say I 'ave." The woman said, nodding into her work once more. She was just rounding the corner's edge, covering it in a delicate golden pattern.

"May I buy it?" Hayden asked casually, to which the woman stopped her working.

Slowly bringing her hands down to her lap, the woman peered down at Hayden with a perplexed look in her brows. "Ya' wan' 'ta buy one a _my_ things?" She said, pointing an old finger back at her chest.

Hayden smiled, nodding her head. "Yes. You see I want to buy my friend something for all his troubles. He's taken me in and given me a home and I've given him nothing in return." Hayden pulled out the few coins she had received from the man she had helped. "It may not be much, in fact I'm not quite sure how much it is - I've never used money here you see - but if it's adequate I'd very much like to purchase this from you. I'll give it to him as a handkerchief."

"Bless his 'eart. Thas' a good hobbit tha' is." The old woman said, nodding her head as she leaned in closer to Hayden. "But I don' expect ya' 'ta be payin' for anythin'."

"Please. I worked for these coins; I'd like to spend them. Especially on something as beautiful and lovingly crafted as this." Hayden said, gesturing to the handkerchief.

"I won' take yer 'ard earned money. But I will take the compliment." She said with a slight wink that would have passed off as a twitch of the eye.

Hayden only sat there, holding out the coins to the woman in protest, to which she refused again with a quick nod.

"Ma'am." Hayden said, frustration laced in her tone. "You worked so hard on this as I'm sure you do with everything you make. You have spent hours of sweat, determination, and compassion - hours of your life - making this. Honest work deserves honest pay. I surely can spend the coins I made after a half an hour's worth of work. In fact, I want to. Please let me." She finished, practically begging.

The woman scrunched up her lips as if in slow acceptance of the girl's words. Her eyes were deep and grey, full of mystery and knowledge. They looked her over slowly, taking in her appearance on the ground and her relative placement in the Shire. She did not belong here, the old woman knew that much, and she had noticed the bruises on her wrists the minute the girl had sat down. There was no doubt in this woman's mind that the girl before her had endured an already hard life yet the spirit of independence still shone through her. Though she wished to simply give the handkerchief away, she recognized this girl's need to purchase it, wanting to continue proving herself for whatever reason or to whomever she needed to. In a few ways it reminded her of herself when she was a young hobbit.

"Alright. But on one condition." The woman said, holding up a slightly shaking finger.

"Yes?" Hayden said, brows raised.

"You let me make it special. We can put the initials of ya' friend on it if ya' like. No extra charge, jus' 'cause I wan' 'ta." The woman said with a smile.

Though Hayden felt this was too much to ask, she nodded. "Deal."

"What's this hobbit frien' 'o yers name?" She asked.

"Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins." Hayden replied with a slight smile. The name was different as was everything about this world, but Hayden found she liked the way Bilbo's name rolled off the tongue.

"Bilbo...Bilbo. Ah yes, I know 'im. Good lad - strange if ye ask me - but good all the same." Maisy said, looking down at the material in her lap.

Hayden thought to ask what she had meant by that statement but recalled what Bilbo had confessed a few weeks ago to her, explaining how the other hobbits of the Shire didn't take too well to his love of adventure and knowledge and other worldly things.

And as if their conversation had never occurred, the woman picked up her needle and the half finished piece of material and continued her pattern around the last edge, finishing off the handkerchief's border after ten minutes or so. The woman's quietness was odd to Hayden, seeing as most of the other hobbits loved to gossip or chat. There must have been a library of stories and tales in her mind, waiting to be told when she decided to open them up.

Hayden wasn't sure how long she had been sitting, watching the woman stitch in a "B.B." into the corner's curve of the handkerchief, but she knew it had been at least an hour. She had shifted positions a few times, often moving to stay in the small shade coming from the woman's tented covering. No hobbit ever came by for a look or to place an order, but a few had walked by and given her a cheery 'good afternoon, Maisy,' or 'Maisy, it's nice to see you out!' The woman would simply mumble a response, focused solely on the piece of fabric before her.

Hayden had felt bad at first, not having asked the old woman for her name. Then again, the woman hadn't asked for hers, so she felt as though the situation was nullified. She wouldn't tell Bilbo of her slip up in etiquette - he would surely be in fits if he learned she hadn't treated another hobbit as politely and respectfully as possible. Maisy fit the woman - it sounded sweet and kind yet held a bit of unfamiliarity about it, much like the way this hobbit was not as hobbit-like in conversation or mannerisms.

Finally, Maisy had finished with her handkerchief and sought to fold it up neatly so the initials showed proudly on top. Hayden had been so caught up in her thoughts she had barely noticed the woman halt her stitching, jumping slightly when she spoke.

"Alright, 'ere ya' go. Looks mighty fine, if I do so proudly say." Maisy said, holding the finished product out to Hayden to inspect.

"This is gorgeous - it's perfect!" Hayden said, giving the woman a warm smile in return.

She stood, searching in her pocket once more for the coins. Hayden pulled them from her trousers, clinking them in her palm with a smile. Reaching out, she handed them to Maisy who took them gratefully in both hands and let them sit in the fabric between her legs.

"Thank you, Maisy. I'm sure Bilbo will love it just as much as I do." She said, giving the woman a warm smile. "I have enjoyed your company as well - what will you do now?" She asked.

Maisy stared at her with happy eyes, folding her hands in her lap above the coins. "I may jus' sit 'ere and soak up a bit more a that ol' sun." She said, matter-of-factly with a shake of her head, as if to resolve her decision.

"That sounds perfect." Hayden said, watching the elderly woman bask in the sun before her. "I'll let you enjoy the rest of your day. Thank you again!" She said, taking a few steps back and waving lightly at the ever content woman on the stool.

"Don't be afraid 'ta shine brighter than that 'ol sun, now Hayden. I know you can; I see it in yer eyes." Maisy said, nodding to herself and closing her own eyes with a trace of a smile.

Hayden just smiled, continuing on towards the last place she had seen Bilbo. She had walked a few aisles over when it dawned on her that she had never given Maisy her name and none of the hobbits passing by had known who she was. Perhaps Bilbo knew Maisy? Had she mentioned her own name and not realized it? She couldn't be sure, but she found her feet running eagerly back to the stall to ask the woman.

Only, the stool was vacant. Her threads and fabrics lay in their places untouched yet the stool stood barren and empty before Hayden. Maisy must have gotten up to relieve herself or get herself lunch - hobbits loved to eat.

Thinking her reaction had been a little too rash and panicked, Hayden turned around once again to venture about the market. Perhaps the other hobbits had been talking, hearing her name from Bilbo. Or perhaps it was Bilbo himself, speaking of his new friend and house guest to inquiring ears; the news must have traveled fast after her first few appearances in public.

She walked by one stall, a man working at tanning a piece of hide while various displays of his artistry lay before him on a small counter. From the looks of things, he mostly made shoes, belts, and other various items of clothing, but she found a few sheathes as well fit for small knives. For the first time she realized she hadn't seen much of weaponry here in the Shire - she knew this would be different in other places in Middle-Earth. How did the hobbits protect themselves? Did they ever need to?

A few stalls over was a barber, hurriedly cutting away some long curls that had gone astray on top of man's head. The barber looked to be relatively young, similar in stature and appearance to Bilbo. His hands dipped and bent, swinging in circles with fingers trailing behind as he cut the hobbit's hair before him. His eyes matched his hand's enthusiasm, focused and intent on the task before him. He was an artist, shaping something already appealing into a masterpiece. Hayden thought him attractive in some strange way, despite her relative disconnect from romance. He was shorter than she and had gigantic hairy feet - even more so than Bilbo's - yet his smile was infectious; every hobbit around him smiled when he did, contributing to the overall cheerfulness of the market.

An idea struck her, crazy as it was. Hayden felt around in her pocket, counting how many coins she had from Bilbo. Though she didn't want to spend his coins, her mind thrust upon her the sudden urge to cut her hair. She could trim it herself as she always had - but what if she cut it all of? It would certainly give her a new look yet it would also give her a sense of risk she felt she was missing. A restlessness surged inside her heart, tugging and begging for her to do something spontaneous and out of character. This seemed like the risk she needed to take in order prove her independence and strength.

The last time her hair had been short was after Daniel had taken scissors to her locks, cutting them off with a forceful satisfaction in a means to make her more appealing. As if to warn her of the poor decision, her brain burst into a memory as she stood before the barber, gaping at him with wide eyes.

* * *

Daniel had awoken with a fury, wanting nothing more than to blame everything and anything he could on Hayden. The leak under the kitchen sink was Hayden's fault, the stain on his blue collared shirt was somehow her doing, the missing screwdriver in his truck was obviously stolen by her, and even the overall displeasure he felt was a result of her not feeling well the night before.

She had felt sick for a few days, trying her best to remain active and physically push the sickness out of her system; the flu-like illness had left her feeling dazed, weak, and sick to her stomach. The thought of anything sexual only worsened the feeling; she didn't want to be throwing up the minute Daniel had finished with her or dreading every second until he was done. He had become forceful with their sexual encounters by then, not caring if she was involved mentally or physically in the encounter but insisting on it all the same. The spark had dwindled in their lovemaking as well as their relationship after moving into the cabin. Hayden had no clue as to why things had turned out so poorly, which held even more weight on her heart than the pain of the disconnection.

After trying to fix the sink without his missing screwdriver, he had stormed out of the cabin and hopped into his truck to head to town. He said he'd pick up a few things and be back to fix the sink, instructing Hayden to pick the place up and get started on the laundry. Hayden had done as he said, fighting the sickness inside her and wanting desperately to just lie down.

Hours had passed, and he had returned with a slight wobble in his step; he wasn't drunk, but definitely had not just gone into town for a few tools. Hayden sat at the table, head lain on her arms in wait. She had finished the laundry and cleaning and was sitting down to rest her aching limbs, now hot with fever.

He stomped over to her, throwing a bag of supplies down on the beaten oak countertop. "What do you think you're doing?" He grumbled out, pulling the chair out to sit opposite her.

"I was just resting. I finished everything. Your clothes are folded, some of them are still hanging out to dry. I tried to get that stain out of the-" She said before she was cut off by his palm slapping against the table.

"I don't give a rat's ass about a stain. Why haven't you started dinner?" He asked, glaring at her through furrowed brows.

"Dinner?" She asked shaking her head. Usually she just ignored his comments and tried her best to make him happy. Maybe it was her mood and her tired body that had brought on the change in temperament, but she couldn't believe he was demanding dinner already.

"Danny it's only three. I'll start dinner in a little while; why don't you get started on the sink?" She asked as calmly as she could, despite the small clump of anger thumping inside her chest.

"Don't speak to me like that - I'll do what I want and you'll do what I want you to. Start dinner." He said, standing and giving her a hardened glare before turning to head into their bedroom.

She noticed his shirt was untucked from behind - something that stuck out like a sore thumb. As careless and rude as he had become, Daniel was set in his ways and very meticulous about things. He wouldn't ever go into public wearing a wrinkled, stained, or untucked shirt. He hadn't left in a disheveled appearance, yet here he was arriving in one.

She sat up straight, gripping the edge of the table. "Where have you been for the last four hours?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly.

He whipped around, looking at her as though her voice had annoyed him more than the words it spoke. "You know where I've been. I went into town." He spat out, turning again from Hayden.

"Then why is your shirt untucked?" She asked, a tear threatening to fall. She had known their relationship was rocky; she had obviously changed in some way to turn his love for her into disappointment. Yet she found herself faced with a harsher reality, one she did not wish to accept. He had been sleeping with someone.

Daniel looked back at her, rolling his eyes. As if to rub the fact in her face, he pulled on his shirt, untucking it completely so it lay in a wrinkled mess against his jeans.

"Who is she?" Hayden asked, mentally preparing herself for the heartache to come amidst the surging adrenaline in her already sore body.

"Who is who?" Daniel asked, walking back into the kitchen.

"I'm not blind, Daniel. Who is she? The girl you've been sleeping with." Hayden asked once more, trying her best to stay calm and focused.

Daniel looked back at her with a smirk, neither confirming or denying her insinuations with a verbal comment. "I don't owe you an explanation of anything. I went into town for tools and I came home with tools." He said, walking over to the sink and taking some of the things out of the plastic bag.

Hayden sat in silence, wondering if her assumptions were incorrect. She knew he was displeased with her - he hadn't held her like he used to, he hadn't kissed her with passion, nor had he told her of his love for her and their life together. Whatever she had done to break their union in some small way had ricocheted, creating a larger issue that had gone unresolved and unnoticed by her until now; she had been living her life with a numbness. This was not right, no matter how many mistakes she made or how many things she needed to change about herself, he had no right to cheat on her.

"Is she prettier than I am?" Hayden asked. When she got no response, she continued. "Does she make you meals and clean your clothes? Does she pleasure you when I'm not enough? Can she give you unconditional, devoted love until the end of her days? Does she forgive you when you ignore her and cast her off for someone else?" Hayden asked, hoarsely screaming as she carried on in her rant. "I have been there for you. I have given you everything you have ever wanted. Everything you have ever asked for. Has she done that? Would she do that?" Angry tears now barreled down her cheeks.

Daniel turned from the sink, dropping the screwdriver on the counter to pick up a pair of scissors and took a few steps forward towards Hayden. He was calm, which alarmed Hayden, for she knew his temper to be robust and ever-present.

He reached out, wiped a tear, and took a small lock of her hair in his fingers. "Hayden." He said with a slight laugh, as if this situation were something that could be easily overlooked. "Have I not been there for you in your times of need? Have I not provided you with a home and a new life, one you said you always wanted? Away from the bustle of society. Free to roam in the wilderness. Food on the table, a warm bed, someone to take care of. Have I not given you those things?" He asked, still rubbing her hair between his fingers and thumb.

She nodded slowly, attempting to calm her nerves from her sudden outburst. It was evident Daniel was going to talk through this with her; she didn't need to fear his temper or voice. Maybe she had overreacted; her Daniel would have never cheated on her.

"If I've given you everything you could have ever wanted, then why would you compare yourself to someone who gives me what you can't? Why would my relationships and dealings with other women upset you?" He asked calmly, reaching for more hair in his palm.

"Because if you loved me you wouldn't need other women. You wouldn't need anyone but me." She said, eyes pouring with slow, silent tears.

He pushed her back, forcing her down into the wooden chair, before slamming the scissors down on the table. Standing over her with his arms on each side of her face, he locked her into his stare, glowing with a sickening smile.

"Do you want the truth?" He asked to which Hayden silently nodded.

"She _is_ prettier than you." He spat out, leaving traces of saliva on Hayden's chin. "In fact they all are. Some of them make me food, others buy it for me. They all give me pleasure, much more than you ever have. I don't know if I love any of them, though some of them have exposed their feelings for me. They've all given me everything, the world even. They're so much more than you are and ever could be to me."

The words cut deeper than a knife, infecting and muddling around her mind like a virus, a slow and spreading poison. She knew he had loved her once, surely he loved her still. She hadn't kept up her appearance nor had she catered to him as she once did. Her behavior had changed, but then again, so had his. She wanted desperately to be what he needed, whatever it was that these women could give to him. Torn between making things right and resenting Daniel for his actions, Hayden sat there crying to herself under his hot breath. She had to make this right; the problems started with her and so they must find resolve with her.

"What can I do?" She asked after a few minutes of crying. "I'll do anything to be like them. I want to make you happy, Danny. I want to be what they are to you. What can I do?" She pleaded, looking up into his eyes.

He looked her over, as if sizing up her body for the first time. With a sigh he picked up the scissors on the table, handing them to her. "You have to cut your hair." He said.

"My hair?" She asked, wondering how that would solve their problems.

"Yes. Your hair. All the girls I've been with have short hair. Yours is long and everywhere and irritating. It gets in the way, really. You drown in it." He said, nudging the scissors to her once more.

"I can't cut my hair." She stammered. "I've been growing it since I can remember. It's one of the last physical ties I have to my-"

"Your mother. Yes, your dear, dead mother. She's gone; don't you think it's time to get rid of your hair too?" He asked, annoyed that Hayden wasn't as accepting of the notion as he had wanted.

The words were honest yet stung, leaving Hayden with a second torn feeling in her chest. Her mother was dear to her - she'd always be her best friend. Their long hairstyles had always given them a bond, one that was laced with memory and comfort. Hayden knew cutting her hair would not be the end of the world, yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. Cutting a strand would be like cutting out the memories.

Impatient with her silence, Daniel captured her in the chair, sitting on her lap and pinning her hands down underneath his legs. His rough hands held onto her shoulders, trying to steady her trembling torso.

"Danny!" She screamed, wriggling underneath him and trying to free her hands. "Please, Danny no. Don't!"

"You said you wanted to be like them." He said furiously, grabbing a lock of her hair in his hands. She trashed around, whipping her head from side to side as if to make it harder for Daniel to grab her correctly, ignoring the pain that shot through her scalp when his hands clamped down as she pulled away. At the sound of the scissor's metallic cling, she froze in the chair. The last thing she wanted was to be brutally stabbed to death because she was fighting against him, against the inevitable. He brought the scissors up, letting the blades slowly come down against her hair, each strand breaking away one by one.

"Danny, please." She cried out, letting the sobs intertwine with her voice as she felt the weight of her hair being removed, the shorter strands swinging back against her neck.

He cut swiftly, discarding the locks of hair on the ground by her feet. She yelled repeatedly, hoping her pleading would stop his butchering but he ignored her with a devilish smile. She knew the truth, it was too late. Though what she was losing was something much more spiritual and emotional, her hair would regrow.

He'd grab her chin, pushing her face from side to side as if to get a better angle to cut and slice. She cried, hoping that he'd cease the snipping, to no avail. She watched as golden red locks floated on air, falling to the floor with silent vibrating thuds in piled mounds like hay.

When he had finished, he set the scissors on the table and looked back at her, examining his work. She could no longer feel the hair tickling her neck, assuming it was shorter than her shoulders. He reached a hand out to ruffle her hair, blowing on her face to free it from the small stray pieces.

"Danny..." She whispered, eyes stinging and throat dry.

"Shh." He responded, looking at a lock of hair that had fallen on his knee. He brushed it off, looking back up to Hayden only to pick up the scissors once more. She winced as his arm drew near, dreading the thought of any more hair being sent to the ground. Snipping here and there, he trimmed up a few pieces out of place before setting the scissors down once more.

"You're off to a great start. You look the part now." He said, standing and freeing her numb hands from their trampled state.

She ran her hands through her hair, not recognizing the tickling feeling that met her palms. It was not as short as a buzz cut, but perhaps a pixie. Hoping his hands had given her a relatively cohesive style instead of a mop of misshapen strands, she let out a rough sigh.

"Danny. Why did you have to-" She said, on the verge of tears once more.

"Plus, they all call me Danny." He said, pointing at her as though her appearance was now pleasing him much more than it had before. "Clean this up." Daniel said, taking the scissors and setting them back over on the counter in the kitchen. "And dinner?" He asked, though it was much more of a demand than an inquiry.

She let out a sob, holding her hot face in her hands. Her body ached with sickness and sadness, yet she couldn't think of anything but her mother. A part of her was gone, lying on the floor and on top her feet in disrespectful clumps. A part of her was removed that she couldn't ever reclaim no matter how much her hair grew.

Standing in the market, her eyes welled up with tears; she would never cut her hair again. Her hair belonged to her, defined her, fueled her with courage and heritage. Once she had strived to grow her hair as long as her mothers, a challenge forming between the two for a short while. Hayden was never able to grow it as long, only managing to keep it at the middle of her spine; her mother's grew nearly to her knees.

At the memory of the loss of her hair, the loss of her matriarchal tie, she quickly walked away from the barber and his shop area. She had been standing there, staring at him openly. He had noticed a few times, thinking she had meant to flatter or entice him with admiration. Her sudden saddened departure had left him confused, and he now stood over his patron without so much as a snip or cut of a curly spiral of hair.

She continued down the aisle, smiling at a few children that ran past her and gently bumped her leg. One of the older boys turned around and gave her a smile in apology, noticing her slightly depressed stare, before chasing the others once more. She followed them, wondering where the children would be off to and where their parents were.

Around the corner the children had stopped, coming into an area of benches, tables, and blankets strewn out on the floor. A few female hobbits were present, sitting with much younger children and welcoming the running ones in with happy smiles. The children gathered around a water barrel, taking mugs and dipping them inside before quenching their throats. As odd as it was, this seemed to be a daycare of sorts. A place where hobbits could have their children looked after while they worked or where children simply gathered to converse and play.

After a few moments of watching, a small girl called out to Hayden. "Your hair is pretty."

Hayden looked at the girl, unsure as to what she said yet having heard it all the same. "Excuse me?" She asked, taking a few steps towards the girl sitting on the bench. The girl was very small in frame, wearing a light pink dress and matching strip of fabric that held half her hair away from her face, though some small curly strands still poked out of place. Her eyes were brilliantly blue, like the mirror of water's surface reflecting a bright summer sky.

"Your hair. It's pretty. It shines like the sun on fall leaves." The girl said, smiling at Hayden before looking back down to a game that sat before her.

"Thank you." Hayden said, blushing at the comment. It was exactly what she needed yet the girl's kindness had taken her off guard. "I like your hair as well." She offered, walking over to the bench and giving the girl a questioning glance as if to ask if she may sit.

The girl nodded and bit her lip, quickly looking back to her game. "My hair isn't pretty. My brother Rupald says it looks like dirt." She said, a slight pout forming on her face.

"Dirt?" Hayden asked with a slight laugh. "Why would anyone say that?"

The girl simply shrugged her shoulders, intent on moving wooden ducks around on a board.

Thinking quickly on her feet, Hayden asked, "Well do you know what comes from dirt?"

The girl shook her head, not caring what came from dirt and instead focused on her brother's snide comment and how horrible it had made everything. She wasn't pleased with his comment, but she was more upset with his lack of kindness.

When Hayden didn't respond, the girl looked up. Hayden gave her a warm smile that reached to her eyes, leaning in to whisper over the table, "Flowers."

The small girl's face lit up, realizing what Hayden was suggesting. "Your hair may be brown, but that does not mean it is any less beautiful than the other colors. And dirt is a wonderful thing! From it you can grow fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Flowers of all kinds and smells. Have you ever seen a flower that was ugly?" Hayden asked with an air of disbelief, suddenly hoping the girl would reply with a 'no,' rather than a 'yes'.

The girl shook her head. "Flowers are always pretty! They make me happy, too." She said, her eyes filling back up with the childhood wonder that Hayden knew must always be present in her pupils.

"Can I play?" Hayden asked after a moment.

The girl nodded, resolving back to a silence though it was a much happier, cheerful quiet.

"I don't know how; you'll have to show me." Hayden said, folding her hands in wait.

"You don't know how?" The girl asked, her voice raising in tone as she spoke. Her brows shot up as well, indicating this game must have been very popular among hobbits.

Hayden nodded her head no, shrugging slightly as if to apologize for her lack of knowledge.

"I'll teach you, then." The girl said, sitting up on her heels as if to gain a few inches of height from across the table.

Hayden smiled at her, warmed by her honesty and innocent presence. She had always wanted children, though she knew she had never been ready for them. There were times with Daniel when she had been unhappy with their simple courtship, thinking a child would have been a wonderful addition to the home. Now she was thankful they never had a child, for she would never wish her fate or previous life upon anyone, least of all an innocent, wonderful, little human being.

She watched as the girl rearranged some of the game pieces, explaining what each one was. She was so lost in the simplicity of the moment that she hadn't really been listening, having to ask the girl what she had said a time or two.

Hayden had wanted to stay at Bag End, chopping wood and getting chores done. She still wasn't sure what Bilbo had been so upset about, and as a matter of fact she wasn't sure where he could have been off to after all this time, but she was thankful for the turn of events the day had brought. She thought to sit and wait for her dear friend to find her, finding nothing wrong with the company of this small child over the haunting threats of her memories.

Her memory of Daniel had brought about a sadness inside her that she thought was buried away with her dwindling nightmares. At first she had wanted to mentally scold herself for thinking of him yet she found herself pushing him down into the depths of her emotions, carrying on with her wandering in Hobbiton and living with his faint presence in her mind.

Life would be hard, there was no doubt about that, but somehow this small girl gave her a promise of hope. This girl looked at Hayden and saw a woman and potential friend, not someone who was broken and torn, scrambling to keep their pieces together. All that mattered to her was the color of her hair and the game that lay before them; not even the harsh words of her brother could sway her for too long. Through the eyes of a child things are often put into spontaneous perspective, and sometimes all one needs is a new way to view their surroundings.


	7. The Gift and The Guest

Bilbo had been very busy, running around trying to track down Mr. Oakbottom's sons in order to place an order for more wood to be delivered and later chopped at his house. On the way to their plot near the lake, he had only become distracted once, finding an array of old books and maps an individual was selling from a deceased relative's estate.

There were so many fantastic pieces of literature and knowledge just waiting to be purchased and treasured, enticing Bilbo in his hurried state. He stopped for what he assured himself to be a brief moment, sorting through volumes and editions that he had either already collected or had yet to acquire. Ignoring the clothes and housewares that were being sought by other hobbits, for nearly an hour he stood in the ruckus of parchment and papers.

After purchasing a few books on the history of Eriador and one on the social evolution of the Shire, he set out once more on his quest for wood. The Oakbottom sons were not hard to find, though they were tied up in taking orders from other hobbits when Bilbo arrived.

The wizard's presence still lay heavily on his mind, eyes searching the crowd for the towering grey man. His impatience grew as did the crowd, yet he found himself comforted by the sudden influx of hobbits; he would be concealed in their presence. He waited as patiently as he could, pulling out one of his newly purchased books from his basket and cracking it open with delight. He read until his place in line brought him face to face with the merchants, looking around every few paragraphs to make sure he was still properly hidden and to check on the status of the crowd.

Finally making it to the front of the crowd, his request was taken by the eldest of the Oakbottom brothers, Fortinbras. He placed an order for forty logs to be delivered as soon as possible, twenty of them having been chopped upon arrival. With a quick signature on a ledger, Bilbo's task was done; Hayden would not have to chop any more wood in the future if he had any control over it.

Unsure as to where the girl may have gone, he set out towards where he left her near the center of the market. He neared the stall of Sancho Lightfoot, an acquaintance Bilbo had formed when once need of supplies during a terrible rainstorm that had caused a few leaks to appear around his back door. Sancho had immersed himself in the world of surplus keeping, obtaining hordes of supplies that he sold to others when stock had otherwise dwindled or gone out of season. The man was proud yet humble, valuing his business while still lending a hand without too much boasting or overselling; if a hobbit was in dire need for supplies yet could not pay, Sancho would not turn a cheek. Today he was selling candles, part of a magnificent surplus of wax and wick he had accumulated over two summers.

"Sancho, good afternoon." Bilbo called as he approached, setting down his basket in front of the man's stand.

"And a good afternoon it is, Mister Baggins. How can I help you?" He asked with a brilliant smile. "May I interest you in a few candles? Never know when you'll need them." He added.

Bilbo raised his brows in contemplation; candles were always an important item to keep, yet he didn't want to purchase anything else impulsively as he had with the books. Candles, he mused, were much more of a necessity than literature. "Yes, actually. Why don't I take three?" He said, searching in his coin purse for some money.

The man took out six and put them on the counter. "If you buy six, I'll give the other three to you for half price." He said with an open gesture of his hands.

Bilbo thought for a moment - this was the exact kind of impulsive purchase he needed to avoid. It wasn't that money was an issue, he simply felt he had already bought more than intended on this trip to the market. Candles were always useful, though. Buying six couldn't hurt anyone.

"Alright. Six." Bilbo said with a nod. He couldn't pass up a deal for something that he would use at one point or another.

"Excellent." The man said, holding out his hand and taking the coins as soon as Bilbo dropped them into his palm. "Will you be needing a bag?" He asked.

"No, that's alright. I can put them..." Bilbo said, trailing off as he glanced to his purchases in the basket at his feet, "...in my basket." It was already quite full, what with the soap, thread, and unintended purchase of books.

The man held out a small bag, a knowing smile on his face. Bilbo took it with a thankful nod, grabbing the candles and placing them inside. With so many things to carry around, he needed to find Hayden before he bought anything else.

"Thank you." Bilbo said quickly, picking up the basket and taking a step down the aisle. He turned on his heel, having forgotten why he had approached the man in the first place.

"Actually, Mister Lightfoot, I had meant to ask you a question." He said, setting his basket back down on the ground.

"Yes? What else are you in need of? I didn't bring my supply of cooking lard - left it at home - but I can send my daughter to get it if you need." Sancho said, attempting to make another sale.

"No, I'm afraid I don't need anything else at the moment. I was actually wanting to inquire if you had seen my friend. She's a girl - not a hobbit, slightly taller - red hair, wearing slippers, trousers, and a blue tunic?" He asked, placing his hands worriedly in his pockets. If he didn't find her soon, he would dread leaving her for days to come. Hopefully the wizard wasn't lurking about in search as well.

Sancho shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't seen any girl matching her description."

Bilbo's spirits immediately fell as his stomach rose into his chest. She couldn't have gone far, and certainly she wouldn't have wandered off out of the market. What would she have wanted to look at? Perhaps he could search out an area of the market where she might shop.

"I've seen her." A man said from the stall two slots down. "She helped me unload my wagon."

"Rollo. Rollo Boffin. Thank goodness! Was, was she alright?" Bilbo asked hurriedly, walking down towards the farmer and leaving his basket behind.

The Boffins were a good family, though slightly odd in characteristics. They had stemmed from the Stoor race of hobbits who had come into the world and lived along the rivers and swamps of the Anduin, traveling into Dunland and forming their own Hobbitish language. Sometimes the strange words came out in conversation, though much of the altered dialect had vanished in the Third Age. Rollo was rounder than most with large hands and feet, burly like a dwarf, and had slight scruff around his cheeks and chin, features common among Stoorish hobbits. Bilbo saw nothing wrong with this hobbit's distinguished look in comparison to others, though it stood out quite a bit when surrounded by more dainty, hairless persons.

"Yes, I think so. She didn't seem bothered when I saw her. Offered to help without a glance or word from me - would hardly take the coins I gave her. Very kind, hardworking. Beautiful too, I might add." Rollo said, placing his hands on the counter. He was thankful she had helped him unload, for he surely would still be at the task if he had been left to his own devices.

"Yes, that sounds like her. When did you see her?" Bilbo asked much more calmly, walking back to Sancho's stall to grab his basket.

"Oh, near two hours ago I believe. The sun was still high in the morning sky. She walked that way, towards the western side of the market." Rollo replied, watching Bilbo scurry away down the outer edges of the shops.

"Thank you!" He called, walking as fast as he could in hopes of finding Hayden before she wandered too far.

He walked up and down the aisles, looking for a red head that was out of place. He stopped to ask a few other people if they had seen her, though most of them had given him a shrug in return. He had neared the end of an aisle, hand on top of his head in a fluster, when a small old hobbit spoke up to him.

"If ya' lookin' for tha' girl, she's over wit' tha' little ones. Saw 'er on my way back ta' my sun perch." Maisy said, peering up at Bilbo with another handful of material in her hands, inches from her face.

"Hayden? You saw her?" Bilbo said, whipping around at the old woman's voice.

Maisy simply nodded her head, looking back down to her work. Hadn't she just said she knew where the girl was?

"The little ones - do you mean she's gone to sit with the children in the play area?" Bilbo asked once more, surprised yet overwhelmingly relieved that he knew where Hayden was.

Maisy nodded her head yes once more. "Tha's wha' I says." She said with a slight huff.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Bilbo said, taking a step towards the aisle's exit. "What is a sun perch, if I may ask?" He asked, nose scrunched up in thought.

Maisy dropped her material in her lap, looking up at Bilbo with a slightly annoyed stare. "This 'ere stool, Mista' Baggins. I sit 'ere in the sun on it." She said with a slight shake of her head.

This poor hobbit was truly flustered, obviously worried about his friend. She couldn't understand why he wasn't taking her information and seeking the girl out, instead concerned with her stool and who knows what else.

"Ah." He said, standing in an awkward gaze.

"Betta' find that girl 'fore she takes on the world." Maisy said with a wink, knowing the comment would send Bilbo into a tizzy yet believing every word with all her heart.

He and the old hobbit exchanged glances for a moment before he briefly smiled, stepping away and into the afternoon crowd to find his friend before she found herself in a new adventure. Or worse - in the company of an old grey wizard.

He scurried off towards the small area set aside for children in the market. By now it was nearing mid afternoon and hobbits were starting to become anxious, wanting to finish up their shopping and gossiping to return to their homes. He made a wrong turn once, stopping short of a crowd of younger female hobbits who seemed to be quite excited at his presence. Their laughter and comments of flattery caused a blush to blossom in his cheeks before he quickly reminded himself that he needed to find another, more important girl, and soon.

Rounding a corner near the barber, he saw her sitting with a small girl on a bench. Both had merry smiles on their faces and were letting out jubilant streams of laughter, obviously enamored with one another's company. The sight brought warmth to his heart, and before he realized it, there was a smile painted on his face as well.

He stood there watching them and their interaction, a small game lying before them untouched. Bilbo couldn't recall the last time he saw a child sitting still and holding a conversation, albeit one encased with laughter and moments of stopping for breath, and he found himself almost wanting to let the pair remain in one another's company. Almost.

The small girl caught sight of Bilbo's presence, looking up at him with smiling eyes. "Hi Mister Baggins." She let out between soft chuckles.

He returned her kind eyes with a smile of his own as he stepped towards the bench. "Hello. What are you two talking about? It seems I have missed out on the comedic event of the day." He said as he sat next to Hayden, their eyes locking for a brief moment before she looked back at the small girl.

As if sharing the same thought, both girls burst out in laughter once more, clutching their mouths and sides while giving Bilbo curious side glances.

"What?" He stammered, wondering if his presence had something to do with their heightened laughter. "What is so funny?" He demanded in a high pitched tone.

Hayden simply shook her head, waving off his inquiry between deep breaths. "It's nothing." She said, eliciting a few more giggles from the small girl.

"Well obviously it's not nothing." Bilbo said, gesturing to the little girl with his head. "Unless you've managed to consume a giggle juice."

The little girl laughed harder, imagining drinking such a thing. She imagined it would be a sweet, bubbly drink, full of sugar and happiness and bits of magic. "No!" She said with another laugh. "We didn't drink any giggle juice."

"Then what on Earth has taken hold of the both of you?" Bilbo said, letting out a chuckle of his own as the two continued to laugh to themselves, attempting to contain their outbursts. He hadn't seen Hayden laugh like this since they had met; it was refreshing.

"It's nothing, Bilbo." Hayden finally said, taking a deep breath. "Where have you been?"

He gave her one last questioning glance before answering. "I've been doing some shopping." He gestured to his quite full basket and sack sitting on the ground.

"I can see that." Hayden said, a smile growing across her face. "Did you manage to buy any tea?"

Bilbo's cheery face swiftly fell, rolling his eyes in the process. He let out a sigh with a slight shake of the head. "No."

The small girl let out another laugh, reaching out to tap Hayden's arm. "I told you he'd forget."

Hayden smiled back at her, nodding her head slightly. "I guess so. I was so sure this time. He just had to remember!"

"Is, is that what you've been giggling about? My inability to remember buying tea?" Bilbo asked, mouth gaping slightly at the thought that they were mocking his forgetfulness.

"No, no, no." Hayden said, waving her hand. "We just had a running bet of sorts. I told her that you were bound to remember this time because I had reminded you countless times before and I had come with you today. And she said-"

"And I said that because she hadn't stayed with you, you would forget." The girl piped up, sitting taller as if to make her voice heard.

"Ah. I see." Bilbo said, nodding his head. "If I'm being honest, that's why I came to find you. I'm afraid it's time for us to start looking to finish up and head back home." He said, looking at Hayden.

Hayden nodded, swinging her legs around on the bench to stand. "I wondered where you'd been off to. I figured you'd find me better if I just stayed put." Hayden said, leaning down to pick up his basket.

"No, that one is much too heavy." Bilbo said, stepping forward to take the basket from her hands. "I'll let you carry that one though." He said, gesturing to the bag of candles with his free hand.

Hayden bent to pick it up, opening the bag's mouth to peek inside. "Candles? Since when have you needed candles?"

"Well, I, I..." Bilbo stammered, shuffling his feet in his embarrassment. "They were a wonderful bargain. I thought they might come in handy should we find ourselves in an emergency or otherwise dark...predicament." He stated, giving her a shy smile at his play on words.

Hayden smiled back before looking over at the girl still sitting. She met Hayden with a saddened stare, eyes casting down after a moment or so. "Do you have to go?" She asked in a small voice. It filled Hayden's heart with regret.

"Yes, I'm afraid I do." Hayden said, walking to sit on the bench once more. "We'll see each other again, though. Do you come here often?"

The girl perked up slightly at Hayden's promise of a return. "Yes. I usually come once a week with my brother and parents."

Hayden nodded. "Well I will see you next week then. Same place?" She asked, gesturing to their surroundings.

The girl beamed, her eyes shining with the newfound recognition of a friend. "Yes!" She squealed, holding up her hand for Hayden to take. "Deal?"

Hayden reached out, taking the girl's small fingers in her own hand. "Deal." She said as she gently shook.

Hayden moved to place a stray curl behind the girl's ear, tapping the tip of her nose in the process. "And remember - flowers." She added with a pointed look, causing the tiny hobbit to blush amidst her silent nod.

Standing, Hayden turned to Bilbo as if to signify she was ready. Bilbo nodded, glancing back over to the small girl.

"Bye Mister Baggins." She said with a small smile, watching them leave.

Bilbo gave her a generous wave, glancing to Hayden to ensure she would follow his leave. They walked out back into the market, busier than ever with hobbits shuffling around with their final purchases.

They walked down an aisle, stopping by a merchant selling various items of clothing, particularly cloaks, coats, and robes. Bilbo stood admiring pieces that hung from makeshift wardrobes as well as things that were lying around in neatly folded piles. The fabric was rich and luxurious, every piece seemingly clad in a suede and velvet like material. Hayden fingered a deep purple cloak hanging from a hook, its collar lined with a grey fur and silver stitching.

"That cloak is beautiful." Bilbo commented, touching the garment as well.

"Yes it is. The purple reminds me of berries - almost as black as the night sky but not quite." Hayden said in agreement.

Bilbo paused his stroking of the fur, looking up at Hayden's happy face. This girl had nothing of her own, save for the slippers he had bought her and the clothes she had arrived in. Winter had already passed yet the promise of cold nights did not leave with it; this girl would come to need more appropriate clothing in time. She had worked so hard around his home, cleaning and tidying and assisting him with tasks he didn't even expect he'd need help with. She had also been through so much in her lifespan, having the very life she fought for taken away from her without so much as a warning. Hayden deserved a better life, which was promisingly coming to fruition, but she also deserved nice things. This cloak obviously caught her eye and his friend deserved something for her struggles and hard work.

"Why don't you try it on?" He asked, plucking the cloak from its hook and handing it to Hayden.

She took it, only to set it down on a table with a shake of her head. "No, I couldn't. It's too expensive - it looks like it's worth more than I am."

Bilbo let out a sigh of disbelief, placing his hands on his hips. "That is the most inaccurate statement I think I have ever heard in my life."

Hayden gave him a puzzled look, pressing her lips together. "You are worth far much more than a cloak, especially to me." Bilbo said with wide eyes; he couldn't believe he was explaining to the girl why her statement of worth was inaccurate. "Who says such a thing?"

She gave him a small smile in return, not intending on the hobbit taking her comment quite literally. Before she could protest or explain herself, he grabbed the cloak and shook it out, letting the purple material fall to the ground in billowing waves.

He turned it around, offering it to her with the front open for her to try on. "Please. I insist." He added.

She sighed in defeat, turning around so Bilbo could lift it up onto her shoulders. She pulled it tightly around her, smiling at the beautiful warmth and softness that now surrounded her body. The fur was plush against her face, tickling her nose as she turned her head around to look at Bilbo.

He smiled at her, taking in her frame. The cloak was perfect, not falling too short or too long on her stature; she didn't seem to drown in the fabric as he was sure a normal sized hobbit would. The deep purple was an excellent shade, accenting her auburn hair and contrasting her porcelain skin. Her eyes seemed to shine as well, their gray shade mirroring the fur.

He reached up, adjusting the hood slightly so it sat over her shoulders. "You look magnificent." He said, nodding his head with enthusiasm. "You're getting this cloak."

Hayden pulled the cloak off her shoulders with gentle fingers. "No, I am not. It's too expensive. I can't afford it." She protested, taking the cloak off in haste.

Bilbo reached out, taking it from her. "You're right." He said, looking the cloak over. "You can't afford it right now. But I can."

He flashed her a cheeky grin before scurrying off towards the shop's owner. Hayden followed after hesitating - she didn't expect Bilbo to take off as he had. She maneuvered between other hobbits looking over pieces of clothing, watching as Bilbo talked with the merchant. She couldn't let him buy her something this lavish; surely she could find a cloak for less when she found herself in need of one.

She approached the counter, an arm on Bilbo's shoulder. "Bilbo, please. I can't let you buy this for me." The merchant gave her a small look of confusion before looking back at Bilbo with a small smile.

He and Bilbo gave one another a nod in silent agreement. "I'll just need to have my wife make the alterations we discussed. It should only take half an hour." The man said, giving Hayden a warm smile before disappearing behind a large crowd in search of his beloved seamstress.

"Bilbo!" Hayden said in surprise. She hadn't seen the men exchange any coin; she thought she had been able to interrupt the process.

The hobbit turned to her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hayden. Do you realize how important you are to me? You've become one of my most valued, honorable friends in a matter of a few weeks. You've helped me around my home without my asking, you've given me company and...and friendship without wanting anything in return, and you've shown me that life is a precious gift - even more so than any lesson or story I learned growing up." Bilbo reached up to his shoulder, taking Hayden's draped hand in his.

She smiled briefly, looking down at the ground; accepting compliments and other forms of flattery had never been easy for her. She had wanted to be Bilbo's friend, yet their encounters and relationship had grown naturally. She didn't force anything or attempt to persuade his acts of kindness. All she knew how to do in the passing weeks was rely on her self guidance, her instinctual actions. Her insisting on helping with chores and tasks only stemmed from her desire to find purpose and distraction, not from a possible promise of reward.

"Bilbo, I didn't help you or become your friend to get free things out of you - I live for free in your home as it is. I do things because I want to; I'm your friend because I want to be." She said, giving his hand a slight squeeze.

"I know." He replied with a nod. "And since meeting you, I've realized that life holds so much more than I thought - that people can be so much more when you give them a chance. I've grown to admire your character as well as your ability to persevere. You're an inspiration. And someone who gives away their kindness and opens their heart as you do deserves to be thanked." He gave her hand another squeeze. "Accept my gift not as payment for your actions, but as an offering of appreciation."

She sighed, knowing the cloak was already purchased and her friend was simply trying to do something nice for her. "Alright." She said, nodding reluctantly. "But you didn't have to buy me something that nice."

He let go of her hand, waving his in the process. "It's nothing. Besides, this is a beautiful cloak that will last you a good long while."

Hayden smiled at him, taking in his kindness. She was excited for the new article of clothing and she couldn't remember the last time anyone had treated her to something this nice.

Bilbo shuffled on his feet, looking around to take in their surroundings. There was still no sign of the wizard, yet he knew not to take this as a good omen. "Why don't I finish up my shopping. You stay here and wait for your cloak. That way we should be ready to head for home around the same time." Bilbo offered.

"Sure. What else do you need to get? Aside from tea." Hayden said, pointing her finger at him as if to accentuate the reminder.

"Yes, I'll get tea." He said with a smile. "I was going to pick up something for supper. You mentioned this morning that you like seafood - would you enjoy having fish?" He asked, picking up his basket once more.

"That would be wonderful." Hayden said with a smile. "What alterations are they making - no one measured anything on me." She asked.

"Oh, you'll see." Bilbo said. "It's a bit of a surprise - nothing that needed measurements."

"Bilbo!" She stated in a slightly scolding tone.

He threw up his hands in defense. "You said you would accept my gift."

"Yes, but-" She stammered.

"No. No 'buts'." He countered with a look.

She sighed in agreement. This hobbit was too kind and far too giving.

"I'll see you in half an hour's time." He said with a nod, walking off towards the front of the market.

She watched him leave, shaking her head at his stubbornness. If he forgot to buy tea, she would never let him hear the end of it.

* * *

Bilbo walked towards the smell of fresh fish and ocean, following the salty scent until he laid eyes on what he was in search of. A hobbit stood behind a counter, helping another patron organize their basket of goods so that the fish he had just wrapped up would sit on top without becoming mush under the other things. Bilbo watched the exchange with nervous amusement; he would have normally found the sight before him quite comical were the threat of Gandalf not present on his mind.

When the customer had satisfactorily placed their fish in the basket and continued on with their chores, Bilbo approached the stall. "Good afternoon. I'll take two of your salmon." Bilbo said, placing his basket on the ground.

"I'm afraid I just sold my last salmon steaks. I have trout left, if you'd like." The man said, laying out a piece of brown paper in preparation for his next sale.

Bilbo preferred salmon and thought it would have been more to Hayden's liking. The girl didn't specify, however, so he couldn't be sure. As it was, he didn't have much of a choice. "I'll take two, then." Bilbo said with a slight nod.

The man gave a small grunt in acknowledgement, adjusting the hat on his head so the sun didn't quite hit him in the eyes. He placed one fish down on the paper, rolling it up swiftly before setting it towards Bilbo to take. He repeated the process, placing a sheet of paper out and slapping down a fish. Bilbo wondered how many times this man had carried out the routine not just today but in his entire life - he didn't doubt the man could do it with his eyes closed.

Bilbo placed the coins on the counter just as the man finished rolling up the second trout. "There you go." He said, looking to pick up the coins.

Bilbo took it, placing it in his basket and giving the man a slight nod. "Thank you." He mumbled, noticing one of his friends coming up over the bridge. Mr. Worrywort would have undoubtedly seen Gandalf if he were out in the country - the hobbit had just come from the pastures it would seem.

"Have a good afternoon." The merchant said, touching the tip of his hat and giving Bilbo a slight smile.

Bilbo walked off towards his friend, attempting to look busy so as not to seem as panicked as he felt. He forced an intent expression, biting his lip as if in deep thought over some grandiose matter. As soon as Mr. Worrywort caught sight of Bilbo and his stern expression, he smiled openly, as though his friendliness and cheery mood would extend outwards and seep into Bilbo's body.

"Hello Mister Bilbo!" He exclaimed, setting down the wheelbarrow full of crops. He picked a tuberous root up, handing it out to Bilbo. "Here. Have a feel of me tubers." He said proudly, sweat trickling down his brow.

Bilbo grasped the tuber's end, nodding slightly at the firmness that met his fingertips. He had never been great at farming or growing things with the magnificence that others had and this particular tuber impressed him. Bilbo thought to ask how he had managed to grow such a beauty when he mentally reminded himself why he had thought to seek the farmer's conversation in the first place.

"Nice and firm they are. Just come in from Westfarthing." Mr. Worrywort said after a moment, taking the tuber back from Bilbo and placing it in his pile once more.

"Very impressive, Mr. Worrywort. Now I, I don't suppose you've seen a wizard lurking around these parts?" Bilbo blurted out, paying no mind to the strangeness of conversation. Mr. Worrywort was not like other hobbits - he would not view this change in subject as suspicious, but rather, intriguing.

As if on queue, Bilbo spotted the tip of a grey, pointed shape bobbing behind various tents in one of the aisles of the market. It was Gandalf. It had to be. No one else he had ever met nor seen wore attire as distinct as the wizard's.

"A tall fellow. Long, grey beard. Pointy hat. Can't say I have." Mr. Worrywort said.

Without staying to hear what Mr. Worrywort had to say, he slipped off towards the bridge in a crouched position after having taken slight cover behind the man. The basket seemed to become heavier, Bilbo having to distort his arm in order to carry it properly, but he did not care. He could pick up fallen things but he could not escape from Gandalf's mischievous spells were they to take hold of his mind.

Mr. Worrywort peered behind him to find Bilbo scurrying off, skulking below the bridge's wall. He was sure Bilbo had a reason for leaving mid-conversation, yet he furrowed his brows in slight irritation. A hobbit should know better than to rudely leave amidst someone else's talking. And without so much as a 'pardon me'.

Bilbo looked back, watching as Gandalf's hat bobbled and skipped, likely to emerge from the aisle no doubt in search of him - or worse, Hayden. He sucked in a deep breath, adrenaline and dread prickling in his chest. He made a mental escape route, deciding to continue over the bridge should the wizard come his way or back towards where he had left Hayden if the wizard went deeper into the market.

The hat approached the end of the aisle, walking out into Bilbo's view. It was nothing more than a pile of fabrics and pillows in baskets, stacked up so high and positioned just right they mimicked Gandalf's hat and stature. Bilbo let out a relieved sigh while rolling his eyes in frustration. It was most definitely time to return home.

He jogged back into the market, giving Mr. Worrywort an apologetic friendly smile though the farmer did not return the gesture. Instead, he stood gaping at Bilbo's odd behavior before picking his wheelbarrow back up and continuing onward.

In no time, Bilbo had rounded the corners and found the stall where Hayden waited patiently, new cloak in hand. "Hayden!" He shouted rather loudly, eliciting a few curious stares.

"Here Bilbo!" She replied cheerily. She figured he had not seen her and needed help locating her.

"We must go." He said, grabbing her elbow and guiding her back into the aisle.

"Okay." She said worriedly, clutching the cloak to her chest and tightening her grip on the sack of candles. "What's the matter?" She asked cautiously, suspecting this must have something to do with his odd behavior from the morning.

He scanned the crowd, sure he would see Gandalf for real this time. "It's nothing." He said hurriedly. "I just want to get these things home. I don't want the fish to spoil. It's been in the sun all day as it is." He said, his voice cracking slightly.

Hayden simply followed his lead, not believing the excuse yet not wanting to bog him down with questions. He had been in an odd attitude all day, determined to get somewhere or meet someone yet looking far too uneasy for a hobbit.

"Come on!" Bilbo said in annoyance. Hayden was walking fast yet she was not as urgent in her steps as he. "We need to get home." He added in an attempt to make his request less of a demand.

Hayden nodded, jogging up so she was at his side. She had never seen him this upset and certainly did not want to be the reason his mood worsened.

They jogged along, crossing over the bridge and heading back up the rolling hills full of doors and windows, smoke climbing out of grassy chimneys. The afternoon sun held a different weight over the lands of the Shire, radiating a deeper gold that seemed to seep into each blade of grass. Hayden wanted to stop and admire it all for a moment but knew she'd either be scolded or left behind; both scenarios were unfitting considering Bilbo's sensitive state.

They reached Bag End, Bilbo having entered the back gate while Hayden continued up towards the front door. "No! Hayden." He stammered, motioning violently with his hand for her to follow him through the back. "Please come in this way." He said warily.

The look of panic in his eyes told her to obey, and she walked as fast as she could to meet him at the back entrance. Walking inside the gate, he reached behind her and shut it rather loudly, scrambling back in front of her to unlock the door.

His hands shook as he tried to stick the key in the keyhole, missing a few times with angered sighs. Once unlocked, he thrust the door open and motioned for Hayden to go inside to which she did rather hastily, Bilbo quickly following on her heels. He ushered her towards the hall, pushing on her back slightly.

They walked in silence towards the kitchen, Bilbo stepping inside each room to check for any sign of intrusion or invasion. Once he had ensured that his hobbit hole was wizardless, he set the basket down on the kitchen table, letting his body fall rather clumsily to sit as well. He placed his head in his hands, letting out long breaths.

Hayden stood opposite, her back to the parlor. She stared at Bilbo wide eyed, clutching her sack of candles and cloak to her should she suddenly be ordered to move again. Whatever was going on had the hobbit in a worried frenzy yet she did not appreciate his treatment of her. If she had only known what the need for such caution and rush were she would have given him some slack. He was keeping her in the dark, and she wanted to know why.

"Bilbo..." She said after his breathing had calmed.

He slowly raised his head from his hands, looking over at Hayden with relieved eyes. "Yes?" He asked, searching to find his voice after being pumped full of such adrenaline. He took note of her stance, clutching the items to her. "You can set those candles down. Let me see your cloak!" He said, clapping his hands on the table. "What did you think of the pockets I had put in the lining? I thought they'd be quite useful, though-" He began, oblivious to her irritation with him.

"What was that all about?" She asked, practically yelling.

Their friendship had always revolved around honesty. She had told him of Daniel, even of her strange girlish dreams with the mysterious man and the flowers. Why would he choose to keep something from her? The very idea unhinged her; this is not what happens in a true friendship and she knew the hobbit was aware of this as well.

He jumped at her sudden change in volume. "What...what was what all about?" He asked.

Though puzzled at first, he knew she was referring to his behavior and secretive attitude. His mind began swirling, searching for ideas on what to say to convince her there was nothing serious going on. Perhaps he could create a false issue, something to do with a sudden illness or the anniversary of the death of a relative.

"That!" She yelled, throwing the sack of candles down on the table. She set her cloak down as well, crossing her hands over her chest. "That tirade through the market. Your paranoid, shifty behavior. What was that all about? What has this whole day been about?"

He sat quietly as her eyes grew with anticipation, weighing his options under her gaze. He could tell the truth, to which she could either be upset or relieved he had kept Gandalf's lurking presence to himself. Or he could lie, to which he saw no immediate issues yet could not ensure that the future would hold such a promise. He could tell the truth and risk the shame now or lie and risk digging himself a deeper pit in which he would be buried in.

"Hayden. I-" He started with a sigh and shake of the head.

"You what?" She asked impatiently. "You are one of the best friends I've ever had, not to mention my only friend. We don't keep anything from one another, or at least I didn't think we did. You can tell me anything. I'm worried about you to be honest." She said, letting the muscles relax in her arms. Her eyes held a glint of a smile in them as well, offering Bilbo a chance at redemption.

He swallowed hard, having made up his mind. "I was trying to keep you safe. Keep myself safe, as a matter of fact. I was visited by someone this morning." He said, glancing off out the window to make sure no one was outside where they shouldn't be.

Hayden dropped her arms, moving to sit across from him. "Who?" She asked in a whisper.

Bilbo sighed once more, pressing his lips together. "His name is Gandalf. He's a wizard."

Hayden scrunched her brows up in thought. "Like the one you told me about? At your grandfather's parties?" She asked.

"Yes. The very same one, to be exact." He said, meeting her gaze. She looked angry, though less livid.

"Why would a visit from a wizard warrant needing protection?" She asked. "I thought you said his magic tricks were nothing but tricks."

He nodded to himself, having regretted his comment about wizards over their first meal together weeks ago. He never knew Gandalf to use actual magic or place anyone under a malevolent spell, but that didn't mean it wasn't a possibility. To be honest he wasn't sure what the wizard could or couldn't do.

"Well, I may not have been entirely honest." He began, to which Hayden's face flushed with an angered heat. "But, but!" He continued, trying to cut off any comment from her. "I didn't lie to you."

She stared back at him with confused eyes. "How can you not have been honest but not have lied?"

"Well, you see. I told you my opinion of wizards, not necessarily what they are in actuality. They are supposed to have wondrous powers, capable of feats unimaginable, live for what appears to be eternity - which may be the case as Gandalf still looks the same as he did fifty years ago - and elusive for all intents and purposes. There are tales of wizards accomplishing great things and helping peoples with their powers, though no one has seen such a thing with their own eyes. At least not for a long time, only in books. I have a great story, actually, if you'd like-"

"No thank you, Bilbo." Hayden said, urging him to continue.

"Right, very well. Uh, wizards are not entirely a myth but they have become a legend to most. They are not necessarily dangerous." He finished, having gone off on a tangent and was now wondering where he had put the book he had just mentioned.

"They're not dangerous? Then why the hell were you running and dragging me along with you?" She stammered with irritation. She was about to forgive him for his behavior and evasiveness yet he seemed to be talking in circles.

"They are dangerous." He stated matter of flatly, momentarily taken aback at her seriousness.

"But you just-" Hayden began.

"Yes, yes I know what I just said. They're not dangerous to people in general - they don't seek out heinous acts or use their magic for evil. But that does not mean they can't be menacing and intrusive." He finished, standing and smoothing out his coat.

"I don't believe this. You've been running from an old man because his presence bothered you?" Hayden said, almost laughing to herself.

"No. Well yes. But no, that's not why I was hiding." He said, taking the items out of his basket. "He wanted me to go on an adventure."

Hayden stood, helping Bilbo organize the items on the table. "An adventure?" She asked with amusement. "You got this upset because he asked you to keep him company on an outing? A vacation?" She couldn't believe this hobbit. He had his quirks, as she had come to know, but this was something new entirely.

"I thought you liked walking holidays." She added, trying her best to impersonate his accent.

Her attempt at lightening his mood did no such thing. "I do but that's not the sort of adventure he was referring to." Bilbo said with a shake of his head. "Wizards don't do such domestic things."

"And how would you know?" She asked. "He has to travel from one place to another somehow. I bet he loves spending time in the wilderness. Even reading a good book just like you do."

"I, I don't really." He quipped, unsure as to where this conversation was headed. If she was going to try to talk him out of his worry, her words would fall on deaf ears. He knew a problem when he saw one, and Gandalf with his pointy hat and looming greyness was one of them.

"I just know that you don't go around asking people to join you on spontaneous adventures or vacations or whatever you'd like to call them - especially when you aren't acquainted with them as it is. There was something urgent, something desperate about him that made me uneasy. He refused to give me any information on the ordeal and would not take my polite refusal." At this point Bilbo was waving a candle in the air, accentuating certain words as if to make his point clear. "I was worried he'd try to recruit you, or perhaps kidnap you. I honestly wasn't thinking about any other possibility - the thought alone was enough to scare me."

She smiled at him, as illogical as his behavior and reasoning had been. "I'm touched that you were worried about me. I don't know why he'd be so persistent and sneaky about what he wanted - maybe it's because he's old?" Hayden asked, though it was more of an observation. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, but I see why you were so upset."

"I'm sorry to have kept it from you. I didn't want to worry you if something was truly wrong and I also didn't want you to panic, given what you've been through." Bilbo answered, setting the candle back in the pile before he smashed the wax accidentally on something.

Hayden tried to ignore the comment, not wanting to dwell on her unfortunate dealings with Daniel and his evil nature. She hadn't considered how she would have reacted were the wizard truly seeking her or Bilbo out with dark intentions. Living a life in fear was not something she wanted to relive. Mentally she thanked the hobbit for his thoughtfulness of the situation.

"You forgot tea again." She said, taking stock of the items on the table. "I'm going to remind you every day from now on."

He stomped his foot on the tile, cursing softly under his breath. This meant another trip to the market. "I guess you won that bet with Emlia." He said, taking the two rolled up fish and setting them on the counter near the sink.

"Emlia. What a pretty name." Hayden said. "I hadn't asked her for her name. I'll have to settle up with her next week - hopefully by then you'll have gotten some tea." She said with a slight chuckle.

"I hope I have." He said, walking over to the table. He put the soap back in the basket, leaving the thread on the table. "Would you take this and put it in the bathroom?" He asked, handing the basket to her.

"Sure. Then I think I'm going to finish my chopping." Hayden said, taking the basket and walking towards the hall.

"Hayden, I really don't want you to go outside in the open." Bilbo said, wringing his hands slightly.

She snapped her head around, giving him a pointed look. "I'll be fine. If anyone old and magical comes around I'll have an axe. Trust me, I can hold my own." She said, turning back to the hall without waiting for his reply.

Bilbo sighed, knowing he had put her through an unnecessary maze of events today. She would be fine and he knew it; she had been all day. Gandalf had most likely left, off on his adventure with someone else or in solitary march down the road.

Bilbo puttered around the kitchen, cleaning and putting things away. He gathered up the thread, taking the spooled shades and needles to his study to keep should he need them. Then he set about preparing for dinner. Tonight they would have fried fish, steamed vegetables, and cheese rolls; he needed to get started.

* * *

After a few swings, she realized her bun was unsuitable for the role of lumberjack; she quickly braided it back, a stream of hair weaving in and out from her crown to her nape. Hayden had been chopping wood for hours now, her arms heavy with laborious swinging and stacking. The sun had warmed the earth up considerably, causing a steady stream of sweat to trickle down her neck and back. Between the moments of regret and physical exhaustion, she was glad to be working. The task had given her a sense of satisfaction, sweet air filling her burning lungs with life.

She had stacked the firewood at the back door, Bilbo coming to get it every so often to bring it inside after thoroughly inspecting the area for a sign of Gandalf and battering Hayden with questions. Each time he'd stand with his hands on his hips, shaking his head as he watched Hayden swing the axe over and over. He protested the first time, having told her she had done far too much work and there would be plenty to do tomorrow and the next day, but she would not have it. She wanted to see this chore through - she wasn't about to start projects and leave them unfinished as Bilbo often did.

Twilight had just come to pass, a cooling darkness spreading over the Shire as evening approached. The heat of the day had left with the sun, leaving a slight chill on the night air. Hayden helped Bilbo bring in an armful of wood inside, her mouth watering at the smell of seasoned fish, gooey cheese rolls, and steaming vegetables.

"I can't wait to eat; I'm starving." She said, setting down the stack next to the fireplace in the kitchen.

"I was just about to call you in, actually." Bilbo said, following behind and placing his armful on top of hers. "Dinner is ready if you are."

She nodded slightly. "I'll be in after this last log. Why don't you go ahead and eat. I know you're hungry and I'm not about to make you wait after the stressful day you've had." She said, walking back out into the hall.

"Hayden, you really should come inside. You've been out there all day. Just look at you; you look defeated." He said with a shake of his head. This poor girl did too much for him, though she was obviously physically able.

"Defeated?" She stammered with a smile. "Never. I'll chop this last log and be in. Go ahead," she gestured to the fish still sizzling over the fire, "eat."

And with that, she left down the hall to the back door, intent on chopping the last log.

"Hayden!" Bilbo called. "Grab your cloak - it's by the door. It's a bit nippy outside!"

He heard a muffled 'got it!' from down the hall, followed by the sound of the back door shutting.

Bilbo sat at the table, twiddling his fingers on the worn wood. He wanted to wait for her to finish so they could eat together yet the darkness only worried him more and more. The gnawing hunger in his stomach would have to wait. Besides, he had snacked as he had cooked, absentmindedly stuffing his face with slices of cheese and broccoli and carrots. His meal could wait a little while longer.

Hayden hadn't expected the night air to have taken hold so quickly, physically shivering as her exposed skin was met with a cool rush. Her wood chopping and constant moving must have kept her body temperate, only to have grown accustomed to the warm hearth inside the hobbit hole. Placing her cloak over the fence, she bent down to pick up the axe and begin chopping.

"I'll warm up soon. Just get to work." She thought.

Swing after swing, smack after smack, the log seemed endless. Her arms had begun to ache after the brief break she had taken. She would miss her mark several times, creating an array of dashes and divots in the wood, before getting into a groove and following through. She was determined; this log would be piled up at the door, quartered and ready for burning if she had anything to do with it.

About a fourth of the way through the log, she had found herself in a focused mindset. The crickets and frogs had become nothing but white noise to her, blocking out the world between swings and harsh breaths. She had neither noticed nor heard the man to her left asking for directions.

A muscular, burly man had approached the fence, clad in a fur cloak of his own and a full pack tucked underneath. "Lassie?" He half shouted, worried that the girl may have been hard of hearing or deaf.

She seemed intent on chopping the piece of wood, that he could be sure of. He hadn't seen such determination in a woman for quite some time, specifically in a female of the hobbit race. Though he wasn't quite sure she was a hobbit; her feet were covered in strange footwear and her body was much leaner than that of a typical halfling's.

She turned to him, axe raised overhead with startled eyes. He reached for the hilt of his sword, absentmindedly preparing for a standoff should things turn unfavorably. One hand reached up in defense, waving gently in the air as if to calm her.

"I won't hurt you. I was just asking for directions." He said, palm now covering his hilt. He hadn't expected the Shire to be hostile.

She stared at the bald man, mouth gaping open like a fish. The top of his cranium was unmistakably bald, shining with the absence of hair and displaying intricate looking tattoos. A cascade of hair fell down from around his scalp and down his back, connecting to his beard and mustache that sat rather pronounced and defined on his face. His ears were large though surprisingly proportional, embellished with a few piercings. He did not resemble any hobbit she had ever seen, though she imagined that not all hobbits looked alike and she had only seen a handful of them.

Perhaps he was a dwarf - his attire certainly fit the part. He looked as though he could have come from a mountainous region beyond the wilds; he even openly brandished a weapon, something hobbits surely did not do. He looked like a creature she imagined Mahal would have created; strong, handsome, steadfast, and stubborn. He was certainly no hobbit yet she wasn't sure what he was, having never lain eyes upon another race in her short life in Middle-Earth.

" _Are dwarves as tall as hobbits? Are they much shorter than men? Should I ask him what he_ is?" She thought. "It _doesn't matter what he is._ _I doubt this is Gandalf. He doesn't look very wizard-like. I wonder if those tattoos hurt. Dad had tattoos like those, though they weren't on his head. I wonder if he had any underneath his hair. I wonder if this man ever had any hair on top his head._ " Her eyes wandered up to his head once more before falling back down to his eyes and then his lips. They were moving. He must have been talking.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" She asked breathily. Her pondering over his race had taken her off into a tangent.

"Your axe. Would you please lower it?" He asked once again, his voice gruff and cautious.

Swiftly she lowered her arms, unaware that she had been staring at the man with a weapon raised above her head, ignoring his conversation entirely. " _What a great first impression I've made._ " She thought.

"S-sorry." She mumbled, setting the axe down against the log. "I must have gotten lost in thought. I was so focused on chopping this last log."

He lowered his hand from the air, loosening his grip on his sword but letting his fingers dangle in comfort. "It would appear so. I haven't seen one so dedicated to chopping wood - especially a woman and especially at this hour."

Hayden smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I wanted to finish. Otherwise I would have had to do it tomorrow. No sense in wasting time when I could have finished it tonight." She said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her body was still warm from the exercise, though the chill in the air was still present.

The man smiled at her, his eyes softening. "Your dedication is admirable. It will do you a great service to keep it present in other areas of your life."

"Thank you." Hayden said, not expecting the compliment to come from the rugged looking man. Perhaps it was the tattoos or the weapons, but he looked far more menacing than he was shaping up to be. She assumed when the time came he could be far worse than she had expected him to be as well.

"I don't suppose you know where I can find the home of a Master Baggins?" The man asked. "Very few folk have given me proper direction - most of them seem slightly full of food and drink at this hour." He lightly rapped his fingers on his belt.

"Yes I do. Is he expecting you?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't feel threatened by this dwarf, if he indeed was one, though she didn't want to let her guard down easily. If Gandalf had sent him to recruit Bilbo she had no doubt he could easily carry the hobbit off with his pinky if he so desired.

"Aye. I believe so. I was told he would have dinner ready." The man answered, unsure as to why the girl would admit her knowledge of the home's whereabouts yet not give him a direct answer.

"Oh. Well this is his house, actually." She stated, gesturing behind her with her head. "The front door is around that way." She pointed towards the left. He had mentioned dinner as though he were a guest. Perhaps Bilbo had invited him for dinner earlier and failed to mention it to her amidst his wizard-crazed paranoia.

"Oh! I beg your pardon Mrs. Baggins." He said, placing a hand over his heart. "I did not mean to-"

"No, no. I'm not his wife." She stammered, shaking her head violently. The man just stared back at her, perplexed. "I just live here. I'm his friend." She continued, to which his eyebrows shot up. "He took me in." She added.

The man furrowed his brows both in pity and in confusion. Though he could assume she was taken in during a state of need, never had he seen nor heard of a woman living with a man without a romantic or marital tie; it simply wasn't done in dwarvish culture.

"Ah." He said, grumbling more to himself than to her, unsure as how to proceed. "Dwalin. At your service."

His formal greeting left her feeling out of place and inadequate. "Thank you, my name is Hayden." She said rather awkwardly, offering him a small smile. Should she have offered him her service? She definitely needed Bilbo's help regarding what was expected out of her in social situations.

They shared a glance for a moment before he gave her a swift nod and walked towards the front of the house. Hayden watched him round the corner, listening to his boots clunk heavily up the steps. She would tell Bilbo to give her more of a warning when it came to guests. She had done just fine earlier in the market, conversing and mingling with ease. This impromptu interaction had been very different, perhaps due to the racial or cultural difference.

Her sense of belonging suddenly fell short, leaving her with an emptied feeling in the bottom of her stomach. She needed to work on opening up to other beings of Middle-Earth as she had with the hobbits of the Shire if she wanted to fully find herself in every way, if she wanted to be herself with everyone.

Focusing once again on her place in this new life, she picked up the axe and set to chopping the log once and for all. If she hit her mark more than she made a new one, she would be done within an hour, maybe a little more.

* * *

Bilbo sat nervously, watching as his fish continued to sizzle in the now cooling pan. He had tried puttering around, resorting to changing his day clothes into something more comfortable beneath his quilted robe. He had returned to the kitchen only to be enticed by the smells once more, tempting him to take a taste. Hayden did give him permission to go ahead and eat, and surely she would be along soon. He could wait; he knew he could. Or rather, he knew he should.

He stood, briskly walking over to grab his plate and hers, scooping up vegetables and fish on each and setting hers aside on the counter. He placed his plate down on the table, smoothing out his robe as he sat. Reaching over, he grabbed a napkin and tucked it into his shirt in preparation for the excellent meal he was about to gorge himself on. Hayden didn't know what she was missing, but she'd find out soon enough.

Lemon wedges sat in a dish on the table, something Hayden had suggested he do so he always had a lemon at the ready for tea. He picked one up, squeezing it over the hot fish. With a content sigh, he picked up utensils, ready to dig into the fish on his plate. Unsure as to what he should begin with, he stared in sweet anticipation.

Suddenly, the door rang.

Irritated that his meal had been interrupted, he shuffled over to the front door. Hayden must have locked herself out one way or another, and so he took a breath in preparation, expecting to see her smiling, sweating face on the other side of the threshold.

Instead, he was met by an overly hairy, yet bald, dwarf.

"Dwalin." The man said confidently, bowing slightly. "At your service."

"Bilbo Baggins," he began, suddenly aware of his unbecoming attire. He pulled his robe tightly around his torso, cinching the belt rather quickly and slightly too tight. "At yours." He finished, a sigh of confusion lingering in the air.

What could this dwarf want at this hour during supper? He had not invited him to his home - he had never met the dwarf before! If he was in need of something, the hobbit hoped he would plead his case soon. He would be more than willing to give him supplies, directions, food, or whatever else the dwarf might need so long as he could get back to his fish.

The man barged in as though Bilbo had welcomed him openly. "Do we know each other?" Bilbo inquired, looking up at the dwarf mere inches away. His appearance had not bothered Bilbo outside of his home, but now he was looking rather aggressive and threatening.

"No." Dwalin replied, as though the answer was evident. He had never seen the hobbit before in his life, surely Master Baggins would have made the same assumption.

"Which way laddie?" He bellowed out, his voice ringing through the halls as he shrugged off his cloak. "Is it down here?"

"Is what down where?" Bilbo asked hesitantly, assuming the dwarf had found his way to the wrong hobbit hole. Who in the Shire would have dealings with a dwarf at this hour?

The dwarf turned on his heels, coming back towards the front door. " _Oh, good. He's realized he's in the wrong home._ " Bilbo thought.

"Supper." Dwalin said, taking his cloak and throwing it to Bilbo for him to take. Bilbo was no stranger to hosting good company, but he had never been treated this roughly by a guest before, an uninvited one at that.

"He said there'd be food, and lots of it." Dwalin continued, turning into the parlor and walking towards the kitchen. He had followed his sense of smell, noticing the fried fish immediately upon entering the hillside dwelling.

"He, he said?" Bilbo questioned, still holding the dwarf's cloak. "Who said?"

Dwalin did not answer, and instead Biblo's ears were met with the sound of someone rustling around in the kitchen far too frantically. He laid the cloak on the coat rack by the door, pushing the door shut in his path and scurrying back into the kitchen.

This dwarf was most definitely lost. And though Bilbo certainly had stores of bountiful food, he was not looking to empty or diminish it just yet. Dwarves had a reputation much like hobbits in that they loved to eat, though they ate a quite deal more in their portions.

Dwalin had picked up Hayden's plate, setting it down on the table and sitting to devour it.

"No, please. That is my dear friend's supper. She's finishing something at the moment." Bilbo said, reaching out boldly to grab the plate in front of the eager looking dwarf.

Dwalin let him take it. "Aye, the girl with the axe."

"Y-yes." Bilbo said, setting the plate back down on the counter. "You met her?" He asked, voice wavering in worry.

The dwarf nodded, standing and moving to the other side of the table to sit before Bilbo's dinner. "Aye. Hard working, she is. She'll need her supper." He said, taking the fish in his burly hands and biting off a sizable portion.

Bilbo felt a pang of regret wash over him. If she had met this dwarf certainly she was startled, possibly scared to death. Bilbo was used to the rugged appearances of dwarves what with them living on the road and depending on the wild more than hobbits. He was sure Hayden had been taken aback by the man, and was probably still outside unsure as to where he had gone off to. He needed to get rid of this dwarf before he could check on her - leaving a dwarf alone in a house full of food was not a good idea.

His regret turned to annoyance as he watched the dwarf consume his meal. He licked his fingers, stuffing his mouth with cheese rolls and pieces of vegetables in between already full bites. Someone like Hayden would have assumed this dwarf was starving, perhaps not having eaten in days. Bilbo knew the truth; he was a dwarf. He consumed his weight in food and then some.

Hoping he would finish the meal and be on his way, Bilbo watched from behind, lost in thought. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a dwarf in the Shire this late, let alone spoken to one. Though their greeting and overall interaction had been rushed and the dwarf hadn't been very polite, he could at least tell Dwalin was enjoying the food. With every bite he would moan in delight, nodding his head and chewing with a satisfied demeanor.

He took a large bite of fish, consuming too many bones for Bilbo's taste, to which the hobbit stared on in bewilderment. "Very good, this. Any more?" He asked with a mouth full of fish and biscuit.

Bilbo barely heard what the dwarf had said between his rambling thoughts, looking around to the basket of rolls that sat near him under the window. "Oh, oh. Yes." He reached out to the basket, taking one for himself before offering them to Dwalin. "Help yourself."

Instead of taking one, the dwarf reached his hand in the entire thing and stuffed a few in his mouth. The action did not surprise Bilbo in the slightest, though he couldn't understand where the dwarf was putting all of this food; surely his cheeks would explode at any moment. It reminded him of the way squirrels pack their nuts, their cheeks protruding like bulbous puffs of fur. Only, Dwalin had dark tufts of hair, and Bilbo could safely assume any likeness to a squirrel would not sit well with the dwarf.

Wanting to make small talk but not wanting to bring up forest creatures, Bilbo thought to comment on the turn of the evening's events. "It's just, um. I wasn't expecting company." He said, hoping the comment would hint at his annoyance and unprepared state.

Perhaps now that Dwalin had gotten some food in his belly he would come to realize he was in the wrong home and in the presence of the wrong hobbit. His hunger could have blinded him, taking over in a rage Bilbo knew all too well. Giving the dwarf some slack, he relaxed slightly and took a breath as he stood, grasping at what to say next.

The door rang once more.

Bilbo swallowed hard, hoping to the heavens that this time it was indeed Hayden. Dwalin looked up at Bilbo, still chewing away on a roll and a bite of fish. His eyes were bright with knowledge, a knowledge of something Bilbo was unaware of. It unnerved the hobbit, and a knot began to tie itself inside his hungry, yearning stomach.

"That'll be the door." Dwalin said, a slight smirk on his lips between crumb covered hair.


	8. The Company and The Dwarf

" _Just a few more swings and I'm done._ " Hayden thought. She had been chopping away on the last log for nearly half an hour now, letting the presence of the bald dwarf slip from her mind. Instead, she focused on hitting her mark with the axe blow after blow, intent on not only finishing the task, but finishing on a high note with minimal misses.

A few stray strands of hair had fallen loose from her braid, sticking to her forehead with sweat. She stopped her swinging, setting down the axe against the fence in an attempt to tuck the strands away. The night air had grown much colder than when she first noticed the chill; goosebumps found their way to her arms and exposed calves within a matter of seconds.

She took a moment to look at her hands, red and throbbing from the constant swing of the axe. Blisters were popping up in the spaces where her fingers met her palm, threatening to grow in size and sting as her night went on. Hayden sighed, knowing that her hands would be worse for wear in the morning but knowing she had to finish the task; blisters would definitely hold her back from finishing it tomorrow.

Just as she had tucked her hair back into the braid and was bent down to retrieve her axe, a short, white haired man approached the fence. He appeared to be in traveling clothes similar to those she had seen on Dwalin, though he looked far less dangerous and much more grandfatherly. His beard was longer, coming down to nearly his belly and pointing off in opposite directions, almost resembling the tail fins of a fish.

"Good evening." She said, offering the first introduction as she stood up straight. " _This is my chance to try again. Talking to dwarves shouldn't be that hard. They're only another race - nothing to be afraid of._ " Hayden thought.

The man smiled warmly, tugging his cloak around himself. "Good evening, lass. Though I see you're still at work when all your neighbors have turned themselves in for the night." He said, quirking a brow upwards in question.

"Yes, I'm almost finished. I had a lot of chopping to get done today and I felt like giving up simply because the sun had retired was a waste of time." She replied, confidence in her voice.

The man smiled once more, nodding his head in understanding. "Well I would offer my assistance, but I'm afraid my presence is expected elsewhere. I'm Balin, son of Fundin."

Hayden crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes squinting slightly as if in thought. "You wouldn't be on your way to the home of Bilbo Baggins, would you?" She asked.

The man's eyes widened slightly at recognition of the name. "Yes. Yes, in fact I am. I thought I was getting close, though I fear I may be late."

Hayden smiled and took a few steps towards the fence. "You're very close. In fact, you're here." She said with a cheeky grin. "Keep going around the path and the front entrance will be on the left up there. I imagine Bilbo will be expecting you." She said, pointing up the road.

Bilbo's forgetfulness in sharing his dinner party plans with her was almost as comical as his inability to remember to purchase tea. There was no use at this point to hold jealous or resentful thoughts towards his dinner guests - she might as well help the man find his way to where he was invited.

"Thank you-" Balin began, stopping in hesitation. "I don't believe you gave your name."

"Oh, I'm Hayden. Hayden Telchara." She said, offering him a small smile.

"Thank you, Hayden. I don't believe I have ever heard a name such as that. It's lovely." He said, taking a few steps towards the front door she had indicated. "I would put on that cloak if I were you. Air's getting a bit harsh and I believe it might rain." He said, gesturing to the cloak lain over the fence rail with his head.

"Oh, thanks. I will just as soon as I finish chopping. I don't want to accidentally tear it or get it too dirty." She said, waving slightly as he continued on to greet Bilbo.

"Aye. T'would be a shame to damage such a pretty thing." Balin said, nodding to her as he departed.

" _That wasn't that bad. He was delightful. I can't let appearances get in the way of my interactions with others like I did with the bald dwarf. No one is going to look the same here, at least not to my standards from home. But that doesn't mean I have to expect the worst of them. Especially from men - I need to try and bury that skeleton if I can._ " She thought.

Reaching down once more, she found herself in a rhythm with the axe. With only a few more feet of the tree left, she would be on her way stacking the wood inside the storage room. The break in labor had left her chilled as well, and she found herself dreaming of the moment she could wrap her body in the deep purple embrace of her cloak.

Bilbo scurried out of the kitchen, reluctantly leaving Dwalin alone at his kitchen table. Passing through his parlor, he kicked a few stray papers on the carpet underneath his desk. Hayden would have a fit if she noticed her hard work had gone to waste in his disheveled home along with the fact that there was a very loud, rude, and angry looking man gorging himself in the kitchen.

He opened the door with a light heart and expected to see Hayden's delicate, cheerful face after the dwarfish surprise that had previously met him. He had no patience for games tonight, and a small feeling in the back of his head told him some mischievous intentions were behind Dwalin's sudden arrival.

The door swung open, revealing yet another dwarf. Though less intimidating and donning a friendly smile, his presence on the opposite side of the threshold was just as unwelcome as Dwalin's had grown to be on the inside of the house.

"Balin," the dwarf sang out, bending at the waist and extending his arms out to his sides, "at your service."

As if following his mother's orders regarding decency and manners, Bilbo forced a brief smile. "Good evening." He said in a slightly annoyed tone, discounting his attempts at niceties.

"Yes. Yes, it is." Balin replied, looking up to the skies. "Though I think it might rain later." He added, crossing over the doorway.

" _That's no concern of mine. You cannot use the rain as an excuse to seek refuge in my home._ " Bilbo thought.

Balin looked a Bilbo, concern pouring over his face. "Am I late?" He asked, much more seriously than his greeting had been.

"Late..." Bilbo trailed off, wondering if this dwarf was perhaps lost, though he highly doubted two dwarves could arrive at his doorstep because they had taken a wrong turn. Perhaps they were misinformed as to where a dinner party was being held. "For what?" He asked, hoping the dwarf would give him a straight answer.

Perhaps he knew Dwalin and knew what was going on, or rather, what should have been happening on some other hobbit's property in some other hobbit's home. It would only make sense; there could be no other reason for two dwarves to show up in the Shire at Bag End on a spring night like this. This had to be a mistake and Bilbo knew it.

Balin opened his mouth as if to answer Bilbo before his attention was captured by the ruffling sound of Dwalin in the other room. Balin stepped forward into the parlor, watching Dwalin attempt to scavenge some cookies from a jar on the mantle with a smile on his face.

"OH!" He called out, laughing openly. He dropped his pack on the floor in the parlor. "Evening brother."

" _I knew it. Now these two can reunite and be on their way._ " Bilbo thought. He looked out into the evening fields, half expecting to see Hayden trodding up in pursuit of the dwarves herself. She would have had to have seen them as they made their way to the front door.

"By my beard!" Dwalin exclaimed. "You're shorter and wider than last we met."

Balin looked back at his brother with admiration despite the playful jab. "Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." He added, a knowing smile growing on his face.

Bilbo looked from outside the door to the brothers and back again. How was he going to get these dwarves out of his house? Where were they coming from? Was there another brother out there?

Dwalin and Balin both chuckled, grabbing one another's shoulders in a stoic embrace. Bilbo thought it slightly touching watching the brothers reunite, though his distress concerning the situation that lay before him almost outweighed the observation. Bilbo walked forward, wanting to address the situation further with the two before anything else got out of hand.

Without warning, the brotherly embrace turned into a bashing of craniums as they knocked foreheads together, a loud smack permeating throughout the halls. What was obviously some dwarvish custom or brutish tradition did not sit well with Bilbo, eliciting a jump from his small bones.

"Uh, excuse me?" Bilbo protested, attempting to gain their attention. "Sorry, I hate to interrupt." He added, politely interjecting to break up the family reunion. "But...but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."

The dwarves mumbled to one another, laughs still spilling out of them. They didn't hear Bilbo, for their excitement and eager hearts were chomping at the bit for the days to come. The chance to reclaim their homeland was drawing near with each passing minute; whatever this small hobbit had to say paled in comparison.

"Dwalin," Bilbo began, taking yet another step into the parlor. "I think -"

"Come 'round here!" Dwalin exclaimed, placing his hand on Balin's back and leading him towards the hall. "The shelves are undoubtedly full with stores."

Bilbo stood near the fireplace, watching the two dwarves ignore his voice and presence, finding their merry way to his food supplies. With a light sigh, he scurried after them, intent on getting the truth out as politely and efficiently as he could.

"Have you eaten?" Dwalin asked Balin, filling a mug of ale from the elevated keg in the pantry.

"Yes. I brought my supper with me on the road. I figured we would need to be easy on our host, what with thirteen dwarves harboring hungry bellies." Balin said, grabbing another mug and handing it to his brother to fill with ale.

"This is a celebration. There won't be a dwarf here tonight who doesn't feast and fill his belly beyond capacity. You are not an exception." Dwalin said, sorting through breads and crackers on a shelf.

"You're quite right. It is a celebration, but we don't need all this food. We can make do with a few portions, surely." Balin said, inspecting some more cheese in front of him.

Dwalin turned to his brother, giving him a look of disbelief. "There will be plenty of time for petite portions. Tonight we eat."

Balin nodded in acceptance. He had eaten earlier, expecting their meal would not be as fruitful as it was turning out to be. The older dwarf had found he did not seek out meals as he did in his youth, though he still ate his fair portion. Given the chance the company would not be stopping at inns or taverns on a nightly basis, he considered his options quickly, deciding that he too would feast with his brother and kinsmen.

Bilbo stood in the doorway to the pantry, attempting to get up in the brother's faces so as to ensure they heard him. "It's not that I don't like visitors. I-I like visitors as much as the next hobbit." Bilbo said. He didn't want them to feel unwelcome or thrown out, but he needed to plead his case concerning their uninvited and untimely presence in his home.

"But I do like to know them before they come visiting." He continued, swaying on his feet with the bits of impatient adrenaline that lingered in his veins. Certainly the notion to be wary of strangers ran parallel in all cultures of the various races of Middle-Earth.

"What is this?" Dwalin asked Balin, holding up a cube of cheese to his nose before offering it to his brother to inspect.

"I don't know. I think it's supposed to be cheese - it's gone blue." Balin said, a slight tone of disgust in his voice.

Bilbo sighed, not knowing if his words were being heard or simply ignored. "The thing is," Bilbo began once more, "The thing is, uh. I don't - I don't know either of you."

"It's riddled with mold." Dwalin added to his brother, throwing the reeking clump of cheese over his shoulder and into the hallway. He'd help clean it up later, but right now he and his brother needed to see to arranging a feast for the rest of the company.

Bilbo watched as a chunk of his neighbor's famous blue cheese sailed through the sky, landing in a light plunk on the tile. "Not in the slightest." He added, swallowing down the silent rage that was building up in his throat.

"I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind." Bilbo continued, determined in his efforts to politely ask the dwarves to leave, even if he had to put on a much more serious front. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think we -" Balin began, looking from his brother to the hobbit.

Bilbo cleared his throat, as if to reinstate his point in the silence that began filling the hallway. Their occupation was not warranted in his home this late, this informally. He dreaded being stern about the issue, but what with Hayden and their already tiring day resulting from Gandalf's presence, he had to insist.

Balin looked at Bilbo thoughtfully, Dwalin's face blank as stone. "Apology accepted." Balin said with a slight nod, addressing Bilbo for the first time since entering his abode.

Bilbo's mouth dropped as his head shook with disbelief. He wasn't apologizing for any action or offensive comment - he had been politely asking the dwarves to reveal their intentions and eventually wanting to persuade them to leave. Perhaps the older dwarf was hard of hearing, but Bilbo assumed he was just as likely rude.

"Oh now, fill it up, brother. Don't stint." Balin said, gesturing to the mug in Dwalin's hand.

"Aye, aye, aye." Dwalin said as he sighed.

"What did you apologize for, Bilbo?" Hayden asked. She stood opposite him on the other side of the doorway, clutching a pile of chopped logs in her tired arms.

Bilbo jumped, not having noticed her presence beside him. "Hayden! I -"

"Here, lass. Let me take those for you." Dwalin said, stretching his arms out and taking the wood from Hayden.

"Just set them in there." Hayden said, gesturing to the storage room on the left of the pantry wall. "There's not much more space in the other storage rooms." She added, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants.

Dwalin grumbled an 'Aye,' walking into the room to set the wood down in a corner. He took note of the extra dishes and chairs, motioning for Balin to come look as well.

"I have probably six more trips to make. Would you help me, Bilbo? It's starting to sprinkle and I -" Hayden began, taking a few steps backwards to the west end of the hall.

To Bilbo's horror, the door rang once more. Cutting off Hayden, he turned on his heels, staring down the hall towards his front door with an angered glare. If any more dwarves lie beyond that door, he would change his name and uproot his home, never to be found again by any meandering wizards or intrusive dwarves.

" _I could live in solitude._ " Bilbo mused as he stomped to the front of his home, his bare feet padding violently against the floor. " _Oh yes._ _Hayden and I will live in solitude. It's decided._ "

He reached the door, hoping briefly that someone had come to claim the dwarves but swiftly dismissed the thought. This night was bound to get worse before it got better.

Hayden sighed, turning to return to her awaiting piles of wood outside. She would just have to see this chore through herself, seeing as Bilbo had other plans to attend to. Briefly she wondered how large this dinner party was going to be - and if she would even be welcome at the table.

* * *

"Stand up taller." Fili whispered, patting Kili on the lower part of his pack as he climbed the stairs towards the underground abode.

By sunset, the brothers had entered the Shire, traversing through the rolling and tumbling hills and coming upon the home who's stairs they eagerly climbed after seeing the mark on the door indicating a burglar seeking work lived inside. It glowed a pale blue, bright and alluring in the dimming night sky. Just as Thorin had instructed, the mark was easy to find yet hidden enough that a disinterested third party could not see it were they simply passing by.

"Wipe your feet if you get the chance - no use trailing in an excess of earth onto this hobbit's floor." Fili added, reaching up towards Kili's shoulder. "And don't forget to -"

"To bow at the waist, yes." Kili quipped, swatting his brother's arm away and pausing on a step. "I know how to be polite, specifically with introductions. It's the only thing I've mastered when it comes to diplomatic relations."

Kili ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing out wandering strands from their clasp without much luck; his hair was not nearly as wild as Fili's, though, so the strands still poking out weren't all that noticeable. "It's the part after arriving and before departing in which I always seem to wander astray."

Fili smiled briefly, running fingers over his mustache after watching his brother calm his own locks. "Well we may have been invited but that does not mean we can't be shown out for improper behavior." He gave his brother a knowing look, as though to agree with Kili's history of mishaps.

"Though this is a very serious matter, I don't think you'll have to mind yourself as you would during council. We have to uphold the noble presumptions associated to our titles as the line of Durin, as I know you are aware." Fili said with a smile. "Just -" He began, weary that Kili's facial expression was an inclination of his annoyance with him, "try not to engage in competitive combat after dinner."

Kili nodded with rolled eyes. "I think I can do that, seeing as I'm no longer a dwarfling."

"Thank you for reminding me; Your maturity was lost on me with that pout on your face." Fili said, walking up the last few steps to the front door.

Kili followed, crossing his arms and swiftly attempting to wipe off his face clean of displeasure.

"If you get bored, please refrain from finding things to stuff in Oin's ear trumpet. There will be plenty of time for that on our journey." Fili said with a light chuckle, though it was not meant for communal amusement.

"And don't try to build a fire under Uncle's belly and prod at him over trivial issues so you can see the vein protrude from his forehead. You're not the one who has to calm him." Fili said with a point of his half gloved finger.

Kili nodded, trying not to let his agitation show. He always respected his brother, but he was beginning to outgrow the brooding parent Fili transformed into from time to time.

"If there are women, try not to oversell yourself like you so eagerly did yesterday morn." Fili continued, ignoring his brothers impatient stare.

"You think there will be women?" Kili asked, eyes suddenly wide and bright, reflecting the small smile on his lips.

"No, I -" Fili began, placing both palms on his face to cover his eyes. He let his hands fall, tugging at his cheeks as his fingers slipped. "I doubt there will be any women, but seeing as there may be a wife to our host, attempt to control your provocative and unruly behavior. Now is not the time for flirting nor should the possibility of such an encounter be a concern of yours."

Kili sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides in exasperation. "Can we please get on with this? You agreed to lift the weight of your responsibilities for this quest. Have some faith in me, brother."

"I do have faith, I just need to remind you that it is not granted without action on your part." Fili said, taking in a breath and awkwardly readjusting his pack as if to make the comment more casual rather than a directed jab at his brother's behavioral patterns.

Kili shot him an annoyed side glance, raising his arm to knock on the dimly lit door. "Is it Baggins or Biggins?"

"Baggins." Fili replied, smoothing out his tunic beneath his coat.

"Are you positive? I thought it was Biggins." Kili said, searching his mind for a memory of the name.

"I believe it's Baggins." Fili said once more, adjusting his coat for a final time so that his weapons were properly hidden yet his muscles were prevalent enough to suggest he could hold his own.

Kili stood motionless, unsure which name he should use in greeting their host. "No. Perhaps you misheard." He said, confident he was right and Fili was wrong.

"Perhaps you should have paid attention in our briefing during council with Uncle." Fili retorted. "If it's not Baggins, it's Boggins." He offered. "Biggins does not sound like either of those options, even if I had misheard."

Kili nodded, not wanting to admit fault but caught in his own naiveness. Reaching up, he knocked on the green door, noting the mark had now disappeared into the moonlight that touched the green wooden panels.

The brothers stood there for a few moments, hearing muffled talking from inside the home but not the sound of someone coming to answer the door.

"Do you think they heard the knock?" Kili asked, looking to his brother.

"I don't know." Fili replied, looking over his shoulder to the moonlit hills once more. A rope caught his eye, swaying gently to the left of the door just above his head.

"I'll try again." Kili said, rearing back his fist to knock louder than before.

"Or we could try ringing the bell." Fili said, reaching out to grab his brother's arm and simultaneously giving the rope a sturdy tug.

Kili looked over to his brother, meeting his smiling eyes. He let out a careless laugh, Fili chuckling softly to himself. At the sound of stomping footsteps, they stood up straight, breathing in the night air as the creak of the door met their ears.

A small, frazzled looking hobbit met their gaze from the circular doorway. He whimpered slightly, as though answering the door was much more of a task than need be. His mouth did not quirk up in a smiling welcome, which struck Fili as odd, but it was the hobbit's eyes that worried the blond dwarf more. They seemed stressed, regretful even. Not qualities a burglar's eyes carry when looking for a job.

Not wanting to give the hobbit any more to fret over, Fili quickly spoke up. "Fili." He said with a nod of his head.

"And Kili." His brother replied, having taken the verbal queue to speak.

"At your service." They said in unison, bowing at the waist and snapping back up with beaming smiles, Kili's a bit too enthusiastic. This bow was something they had practiced since dwarflings, aiming to elicit a smile and dash of amazement from their elders.

"You must be Mister Boggins!" Kili exclaimed, wanting to show is brother how prompt and polite he could be when put to the test.

"Nope! You can't come in." The hobbit said all too quickly. "You've come to the wrong house," He added, moving to shut the door in their faces.

Kili swung his arm out, catching the door in its path. "What? Has it been cancelled?" He asked. The thought briefly crossed his mind that he could have mispronounced the hobbit's name, angering him in the process and thus casting out their invitation.

"No one told us." Fili added, suspecting something else was at play for the hobbit's unwarranted dismissal.

Bilbo looked at the pair with irritated confusion, his eyes squinting as if to understand what event they were talking about. "No. Nothing's been cancelled." He replied, shaking his head violently as if the very thought of cancelling their meeting was enough to get sick over.

Kili's face lit up once more, ridding the worry that had spread between his brows. "Well, that's a relief." He said, stepping inside the home before the hobbit could close the door once more.

With slight hesitation, Fili followed. Though the hobbit had not explicitly told them to leave his property, he hadn't exactly invited them inside his home. He would have to remind Kili that manners outweigh urges, especially in situations such as these.

Stepping down into the hallway and passing the parlor where Kili unloaded, Fili looked to Bilbo, giving the hobbit a smile laced with knowing eyes. He dropped his pack, setting to unstrapping and handing off his weapons so as to not walk around like a clunking warrior during a diplomatic dinner party, albeit a gathering of kinsmen.

Bilbo looked at the dwarf in horror, watching as endless knives, daggers, swords, and axes came raining out of the dwarf's pockets and crevices - did he have any other, less deadly possessions? Swinging a belt over his shoulder, Bilbo stood in wait. His arms grew heavy, not wanting to drop the weapons and hurt his foot, or worse - ruin his floors.

"Careful with these," the blond began, lifting his eyebrows ever so slightly, "I just had 'em sharpened." He placed them on top of the pile in Bilbo's arms with a light clunk.

Unaware that his behavior was pompously inappropriate, Fili kept on unsheathing and untucking. As a noble dwarf, the prince was accustomed to having his weapons taken by someone else upon entry of a home or hall, particularly in situations where he found himself surrounded by food, drink, and good company. He dug into his coat's fur collar, finding another large dagger to add to the pile like a cherry placed gingerly on top of a cake.

Kili emerged from the parlor, having rid himself of his pack and bow, and walked down the hallway to where his brother and their host stood. "It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" He asked, briefly looking around at the walls and tables overflowing with memories and clutter.

"What? No. It's been in the family for years." Bilbo answered, straining to look over his shoulder at the dark haired dwarf.

Eyeing a box with excellent edges, Kili remembered his brother's warning about not tracking dirt into the hobbit's home. He began scraping his boots on the wooden box, mud curling off his toes in waves.

"That is my mother's glory box!" Bilbo exclaimed, torn between dropping the contents of his arms to remove the box and staying put to see the weapons safely away. "Could you please not do that?" He asked, practically yelling.

" _What is a glory box?_ " Kili wondered, scraping his foot one last time.

Looking up to see Dwalin burrowing down the hallway, Kili smiled at the sight of his old friend. Dwalin was like a second uncle to him and his brother, having been close to Thorin and constantly present in family gatherings. Kili always looked up to Dwalin, knowing that his own childlike mannerisms mirrored those buried below the burly dwarf's hard exterior.

In times of punishment, Dwalin would often console Kili by talking to him, urging him to see the logic and reason behind Thorin's rash temper. The older dwarf would tell stories and jokes, constantly insisting that finding the humor out of life kept the heart young, which in turn kept the warrior nimble. Kili never could understand why Dwalin hid his comical, light hearted side from others - it had always brought joy to an otherwise dampened spirit.

Dwalin always provided him with the opportunity to hash out his anger and frustration, turning weapons practice into a game that only got better when the young dwarf would admit his faults in order to rework them as strengths. Kili grew to understand that Dwalin was someone he could turn to when all others seemed too busy or too impatient, realizing as he had grown that Dwalin's teachings and games had given him the chance to see mistakes as stepping stones, paving the way for him to prove his worth as a prince of Durin.

"Fili, Kili. Come on. Give us a hand." Dwalin said, getting down to business. He had no time for the jubilant greetings that typically accompanied introductions, even those with kinsmen.

"Mister Dwalin!" Kili exclaimed with a laugh as Dwalin reached his arm around to pull the young dwarf into a side embrace. Dwalin gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, propelling Kili towards the dining room where Balin waited.

Having heard Dwalin's request for aid, Fili jogged down the hall and into the dining room, leaving Bilbo to shuffle behind with his weapons.

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in." Balin said, nodding at a china cabinet sitting on the west wall of the dining room. He looked to Kili in a warm greeting, nodding to Fili as he entered as well.

Fili and Kili walked over to the cabinet, squatting down to lift the full wooden cabinet.

"Everyone?" Bilbo stammered, having just walked into the entryway of his mess of a dining room. "How many more are there?"

None of the dwarves answered his question, instead focusing on creating more space in an already shrunken room. Bilbo felt a stream of sweat form on his brow as he watched his china cabinet being moved while full of breakable, priceless objects and heirlooms.

"Lift it." Balin said, flapping his hands in a small, upward motion to direct Fili and Kili with the piece of furniture. "Out there. We need to make space."

Kili peered around the cabinet's back, giving Fili a look as if to mock Balin for his obvious exclamation.

"What else would we do, kick it?" He whispered to Fili.

Fili swallowed a chuckle, smiling at his brother before raising his brows in amusement.

The door rang once more, Fili noticing Bilbo scurry off with a mound of weapons still in his small arms. He briefly wondered where they would end up and regretted giving them to the hobbit to stow. Before bed he would find them and take stock - right now he could only focus on the task at hand as his kinsmen and friends arrived.

He and Kili set the cabinet down just outside of the dining room arch, walking into the pantry to find Dwalin filling his arms with cheeses, vegetables, and dried meats.

"There's some more chairs in there." Dwalin said, pointing with his head to the storage room. "And some plates. I imagine we'll need the lot for tonight's festivities." He added with a knowing smile, looking down the hallway as the sound of more dwarves trailed inside.

Kili took the food from Dwalin, dropping a head of lettuce in the process. Dwalin caught it before it could touch the tiles, setting it on top of a partially molded chunk of cheese.

"Thanks." Kili muttered, stepping back to take the food to the kitchen. "Are those crumbs?" He asked, looking at Dwalin's beard. "Did you eat already?" Kili questioned further. "Without us?"

Dwalin folded his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. "If ya' don't get that food to the kitchen you won't be eatin' at all." He said, pointing his chin towards the area of the dining room as if to shoo the young dwarf off.

"He ate without us!" Kili exclaimed to his brother, seeking an equal reaction from him.

Fili simply smiled, shaking his head as he stood with a pile of Bilbo's plates in both his hands. "Go Kili. Come back and help with the chairs." Fili instructed.

Kili did as he was told, Fili following closely behind with the extra plates. Fili returned a few moments later after setting the dishes on the dining room table, picking up a chair as Dwalin carried more food to the kitchen. The chair was fairly light, though the delicate carvings in the wood told Fili these pieces of furniture were by no means cheap. He didn't expect to see a hobbit living this luxuriously inside a home burrowed in the earth. Then again, dwarves lived even deeper inside mountains; Fili found himself swallowing his assumptions about the shorter race.

Fili took a chair in to the dining room, handing it off to a waiting Balin. "Kili!" He yelled, stomping into the kitchen. "Kili, come on!"

Kili rushed to the doorway, practically knocking his brother over in the process. He struggled to hide the chunk of cheese nestled in his cheek, smiling shyly. Fili rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his brother's back and leading him back to the storage room.

There were five more chairs in the room, neatly stacked in the corner. Dwalin had carried the remaining plates and bowls from the crate after bringing a large chunk of fresh vegetables into the kitchen. The food was important, but Dwalin elected to leaving the pantry alone for now until they had more hands. That way, it could properly be emptied and a meal could be underway after the dining room was at least partially set up.

With seating arrangements needing placed, Balin and Dwalin began setting out plates and silverware to be cleaned, noticing many from the storage room were caked in dust. Kili brought in the chairs, leaving them for Fili to set around the table, and returned to the storage room to retrieve the last two. Fili stood in the dining room in wait, expecting the need to find more chairs, possibly even a table or two - or three.

Trudging down the hall with tired knees and heavy arms, Hayden had shuffled into the crossroads of the pantry and dining room. "Excuse me, could I get some help?" Hayden asked, struggling to balance five logs in her arms. Sweat continuously poured down the sides of her face, her back becoming cool with perspiration as well. Her hood sat neatly on top of her head, radiating the heat coming off of her cranium.

The older dwarves simply ignored her, their arms whipping around the table in a hasty attempt to organize their dinnerware. With ringing laughter coming from the front of the house, booming voices in conversation, and the clinging of dishes and housewares, Hayden figured her voice had simply been drowned out.

"Excuse me?" She said once more, slightly louder. Her arms shook, wanting to drop the logs with growing impatience. Where was Bilbo, anyway?

She stood for a few moments in silence as the dwarves rearranged chairs. She recognized Balin and Dwalin, recalling their pre-engaged offers to help outside. Surely they would follow through with those offers of assistance if they were decent men. If only Bilbo were in the room - he would no doubt help her finish carrying the logs inside. At least, Hayden hoped he would.

A dark haired man much younger than the two she had spoken with walked past her, a chair in his arms. At first Hayden assumed he was human, but quickly altered her stance seeing as he was similar in height and build to Dwalin and Balin. Surely he had seen her and would help her as soon as he dropped the chair. He walked back out of the dinning room, Hayden reaching out slightly in hopes he would take the logs from her. He simply continued out of the room without so much as a blink in her direction, returning a moment later with another chair.

"HEY!" Hayden yelled in a high-pitched voice. She hadn't expected it to be as loud as it was, but it seemed to have worked.

Dwalin gripped the table, eyes searching for a possible weapon. Balin grabbed his beard, not expecting the shrill noise. Fili jumped, his hand whipping to his hip where one of his daggers sat patiently in a holster. Kili dropped the chair he had been carrying, readying his stance were an altercation to take place. The dwarves may have been distracted, but they would never be caught off guard.

Hayden looked at the four men from underneath her hood. The last thing she wanted was to be angry, yet she felt the burning sensation rising in her throat, threatening to burst out of her mouth. Perhaps it was the feeling she wasn't invited to this gathering that added to her frustration, or perhaps it was the fact she was physically drained from the day. Most likely it was a combination of the two, but she didn't have the patience nor the desire to decide which.

"Would it kill any of you to lend me a hand? I've been standing here waiting for someone to help me." She breathed out, wanting desperately to drop the logs. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, trailing onto her cheekbone. Ever so carefully, she wiped it off with her shoulder.

"I understand you have a party to prepare for, but I just need an extra pair of arms for a few moments." She added in a polite attempt to lighten the mood. These dwarves may have ignored her, but she still held enough reason to see that their intentions were not offensive. She might as well extend the same courtesy.

When none of the dwarves moved, instead meeting her gaze with bewildered and startled eyes, Hayden let her weary arms win. She lifted her hands, letting the cut pieces of wood tumble down over her feet and onto the floor, rolling in various directions. A scowl found its way across her lips, hearing a stampede of footsteps coming from the front of the house.

"Enjoy your dinner." She stammered, spinning around to walk back to the yard. If no one would help her, she would finish the job herself. Whether the logs found their way to a tidy corner of the home or not was Bilbo's problem.

Fili launched himself after her, pointing to the logs as he skipped over them. "Kili. Get these out of the hall."

Kili nodded, not having expected such an outburst from a woman with such a nice face. "Who was that?" He asked, picking up three of the five logs.

"That would be Hayden." Dwalin replied, walking into the hall to take the logs from Kili.

"Hayden?" Kili asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. The name felt foreign on his tongue.

"Aye. Bilbo's friend." Balin answered, smoothing out his beard against his tunic.

"His friend? In his house at this hour?" Kili asked, reaching down to pick up the last log that had rolled under a bench in the hallway.

"Aye." Dwalin said, pointing to the corner of the room where he had stacked the other logs.

"They're not married? Are they betrothed at least?" Kili asked, his voice rising in pitch.

The thought of a woman living with a man without romantic interest seemed out of place to the dwarf. Even if the girl was purely company for hire, he did not imagine she'd be roaming the house without Bilbo, let alone doing chores. He mused for a moment if that was why the hobbit was so stern when opening the door - perhaps he and his companions had interrupted the hobbit's evening with her.

"No. They are simply friends. I find it a bit odd myself, but I believe it to be true." Balin answered, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Why else would a lady spend her evening chopping wood while a man sits inside?"

The sound of Bofur's laugh echoed in the hallway, pulling Balin, Dwalin, and Kili's attentions away from the outburst and to their incoming comrades. Within a few moments, Bofur had emerged, his brother Bombur trailing behind.

"Lads!" Bofur exclaimed, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. "The day has finally come!"

Gloin and Oin emerged behind him, patting Bofur on each of his extended arms.

Nori trailed in through the kitchen, eyeing the dining room table full of fancy yet empty plates. "Let's get some food cooking, shall we?" Nori said.

"I'll get to it." Bombur said cheerfully, attempting to shuffle around the chairs and table and into the kitchen. When he could not fit through, he resorted to walking back into the hallway and down to the front entrance. Passing through the parlor, he found himself in the kitchen at last.

"You could have just come in through this side door here." Said Ori, a sweet smile on his face as he leaned against the kitchen sink.

"It would have been nice if you had told him that before he walked all the way round." Dori said, shaking his head. "Help the others with washing the dishes." He instructed, pointing to the dining room where Balin and Bofur emerged, plates in hand.

"Someone get me an ale!" Gloin shouted, eliciting cheers from the others.

* * *

Hayden stormed outside, walking to the pile of logs that sat waiting to be stored. She eyed the mound over, deciding whether or not she really wanted to take everything inside. Her body had not been used to such physical labor and the emotional pain that had taken root in her stomach had grown with her hunger. Perhaps all of this could wait until tomorrow.

She stood, resentful eyes staring blankly at the logs. If she didn't finish this task, what would she do? Could she go inside and join Bilbo and his company? The thought only embittered and embarrassed her more. She shouldn't have dropped the logs like she had. She felt like a child that had thrown a tantrum, desperate for answers after being left out of this gathering.

" _How could Bilbo have left me out of such a party, and why? Have I done something to offend or displease him? Are women not allowed at dinner parties in Middle-Earth?_ " She thought, wrapping the cloak tight around her shoulders. She adjusted the hood on her head, attempting to block out the moon and its beauty. " _I thought I was his friend._ " A few tears prickled up into the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over should she continue in this state.

"May I assist you?" A voice called out from behind, followed by a low clearing of a throat.

Hayden turned, half intent on dismissing the assistance yet partial to welcoming the help after being ignored by the mass of strong and able men. She stopped before a noise could leave her mouth, feeling the words catch in her throat in a massive clump. Before her stood a dwarf, slightly taller than she and much more muscular. She could recall seeing him inside, but somehow she felt she knew him as he stood before her.

She looked up at him from her hood, daring to put a face to the charming voice. Briefly, she let her eyes wander over him. His attire was intriguing, what with his gloves, various daggers, and leather straps mingling between his fur collared coat, yet his face was even more so. His eyes were kind yet reserved, a smirk playing underneath his mustache that was tied off with braids on either side, swaying down to just above his chin. She had never seen a man with these types of facial braids aside from her father who had held them in his fiery beard; the sight brought forth an unexpected feeling of familiarity and comfort.

She opened her mouth in response, only to close it after a moment with a quick nod of the head. There was something about the way his steady eyes met hers in the moonlight, the strength and reassurance of his outstretched hands, the promise of warmth were they to touch. A spark lit in her chest, blazing as she continued to ponder the dwarf before her. The instant attraction she felt was undeniable yet she could not bring herself to speak. It was as though she had lost her voice, throwing it out into the night air to dance around in mockery with each cold lick of the wind on her face.

He looked at the girl, cheeks flush with the red tinge of labor and eyes shining under the shadow of her hood, and felt a wave of recognition wash over him. Her eyes were welcoming, as though he had sought refuge in them before. There was something about her heavy breathing, rhythmic and steady, that reminded him of something. Or was it someone? He couldn't quite place the memory.

At her nod, he took the opportunity to pick up an armful of logs. Crouching down, he inspected the wood, turning over a few pieces in the moonlight. The cuts were jagged and rough, but much more precise than he had expected.

"You chopped all of these?" He asked, looking up at her.

She nodded in response, her gaze wandering off into the garden where the Fumellar was planted. What a pity she wouldn't be given the chance to talk more with this dwarf at dinner; she was dying to know what other worldviews were out there, how other people lived in Middle-Earth. Then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, seeing as mice were decibels louder than she currently was.

Fili picked up eight logs, balancing the tower as he stood. "I'm impressed. Your aim could use some work from what I see with your marks. Nonetheless, this is very good work for a woman."

"For a woman?" Hayden asked, suddenly finding her voice. "What do you mean for a woman?"

Fili turned, having taken a few steps toward the back door. "Your aim is quite good for a woman. Most dwarven women are excellent with an axe, but other races seem to lack in strength and skill in comparison. I've yet to see work this good from a woman other than a dwarf." He said matter of factly, walking toward the door once more.

"My father taught me to wield an axe. I'm just as good as any man when I'm not rusty." She spat out, crouching to pick up an armful of logs herself.

Fili was taken aback by her comment, thrusting the door open with his foot and holding it for Hayden to walk through. "I meant no offense. Though I think his lessons lacked dwarvish focus, I'm sure your father taught you as well as he could. You should be proud to have such a skill as a woman. You just need to -" He began, watching as she walked inside the hallway.

"No, _you_ just need to stop talking. You have some nerve. Don't speak about my father again - you won't ever be half the man he was." She said through clenched teeth, walking down the hall and carelessly dropping the pile just inside the spare room that held materials for whittling and other various hobbies. Who did he think he was, attacking her father like that? She could handle his comments, but degrading her father had crossed a line.

Fili simply stood at the door, watching the woman storm back down the hallway. Her eyes were piercing, their icy gaze slapping him in the face with a hard sting. He couldn't recall seeing that look on the face of a woman before; the sight both intrigued and frightened him.

"Please, miss. I truly meant no offense. There is nothing wrong with being of the weaker race; it is in your blood." He said as she crouched down to pick up more logs.

"I said stop talking." Hayden said, stopping at the door and staring down the hall. She swallowed hard, forcing down the resentment that had built up in her throat. "Are you going to help or would you prefer to watch the weak girl do all the work?" She asked, avoiding eye contact with the pompous dwarf.

Fili pursed his lips together, desperately trying to hold his wild tongue inside his head. He did not like angering anyone, especially women which he so often seemed to do, though this particular situation was entirely new to him. He had never encountered a woman so stubborn about racial qualities - it was as if she had never considered the biological differences between dwarves, men, hobbits, and god forsaken elves. The least he could do was apologize, yet it was evident that no soothing or reassuring words would be of help.

"Please." He said, gesturing with his head for her to enter the back door first.

Reluctantly she walked inside, dropping the logs to form a larger pile in the spare hobby room as tears began to silently stream down her face. Fili followed as well, setting his logs next to her disarray on the floor.

The two continued carrying logs inside, making multiple silent trips over the course of a few minutes. Fili's mind wandered over their interaction, struggling to find a point in which he had been in the wrong. Hayden cursed herself for even thinking there was an inkling of attraction; looks were ostensibly all this dwarf had to offer.

After Hayden placed the last few logs on the ground, she faced Fili who had been standing motionless with his hands behind his back. He smiled weakly, to which she shifted her gaze. Unsure if her cheeks were stiff with dried sweat or tears, she refused to smile at the dwarf. She found herself caught between feeling proud at her hard work or self conscious at her disheveled appearance.

"I did not mean -" Fili began.

"Thanks." Hayden blurted out, turning on her heel and practically running into the bathroom. She needed to bathe the sweat and grime and heartache away; whether or not improving her appearance would help anything, she did not care. The bathroom held sweet smelling soaps and warm water, and it certainly was void of arrogant dwarves and inconsiderate hobbits.

Fili stood in the spare room for a moment, fighting the urge to go after the girl he had angered. Her actions confused him, as though his comments of flattery had been churned into insinuations that her race were inadequate. He had conversed with many women of various races, and not once had he ever managed to offend one of them for stating the obvious.

He realized he wasn't quite sure what race she was. She stood at the height of a dwarf or tall hobbit, yet her stature and build mirrored that of a human. Her hood had been drawn, so he wasn't sure what her ears looked like. If they were pointed in any way, he could decipher whether or not she was of elvish or hobbit-ish heritage. He assumed that she was a half breed, though he was not quite sure what races made up the two halves. Her father must have been human, for hobbits usually held slightly more precise cuts in their craftsmanship and woodwork than men.

A pang of guilt crept up inside his stomach at the thought of the girl's father. His comment of the man's teachings was not meant in a derogatory way, yet he found himself regretful of it all the same. From the way she had spoke of her father, he was most likely deceased and thus even more deserving of respect and honor.

Fili let his mind wander to thoughts of his own father, gone yet unwavering in Mahal's eyes. Had someone spoken about his father so casually and disrespectfully, Fili would have reacted in much the same way. He walked out into the hallway, glancing at the closed bathroom door, before uttering an apology to Mahal and his father for behaving dishonorably and to the girl and her father for his careless conviction.

"Fili! Fili, my boy. Where 'ave you been?" Bofur called out, a mug full of ale in both his outstretched hands. "I was beginning to think I'd be left 'ta drink all this by meself." He said, gesturing to the barrel of ale that sat inside the pantry. Surprisingly, he failed to spill any of the drink in his theatrical greeting.

"No, I don't imagine I can let you do that." Fili said, forcing a smile as he walked. "Are one of those for me?" He questioned, desperately wanting to forget about the encounter he had with the girl and his disrespectful performance. A good drink or two would certainly help.

"For the right price, aye." Bofur smiled, almost enhancing the ever-present twinkle in his eye.

Fili reached Bofur in the hallway, crossing his arms in the process. "And what price might that be?" Fili breathed out, attempting to appear playful through his aggravation.

Bofur extended an arm out, a worn hand clasped around the wooden mug full of golden ale. "You have to drink the entire thing. None of your sips or gulps - just slosh it down like a melted river in early spring." He said, an eyebrow jolting up as if in doubt that Fili would be up to such a task.

Fili grabbed the mug, eyeing Bofur closely. "A price that high deserves a concession."

"Aye, and what might that be?" Bofur asked, placing his freed hand on his hip.

"You have to drink with me." Fili said, holding up his mug as if to toast.

Bofur let out a roaring chuckle, lifting his mug to touch Fili's. "To the Company." Bofur said before throwing back the mug and filling his belly with the warm contents.

Fili watched his friend for a moment, letting a smile grow on his face as little drops of ale traveled down the tips of Bofur's outstretched mustache. "To the Company." Fili said in agreement, drinking his ale as well. It slid down his throat like butter, warm and perfect after a long days journey and an excellent prelude to a night of feasting with kinsmen.

Fili wasn't sure if he would come around or if he would have to force a good mood upon himself the entire night. Surely this night had been well awaited and anticipated enough to draw a genuine cheer out of the dwarf, yet the thought of the girl alone in the bathroom, upset and unnerved, left him feeling useless.

He didn't even know her name yet her presence alone had set his nerves ablaze. Her eyes had held him in a way he was all too sure they had done countless times before. How could a stranger make him feel at peace yet so anxious? It was as though his soul were bound to hers in some way yet the very thought of such a connection threatened to evoke fear in his heart; fear not of the unknown, but of the possibility he may come to fail her.

"Let's get a move on." Dwalin called out, stepping into the hall so his voice could properly travel through the curved hallways. "Grab a bushel or an armful and take it to the kitchen."

* * *

Everyone was hands on deck, swarming into the pantry with hungry bellies and eager eyes. Gloin and Oin stopped searching for additional chairs; Nori and Ori left the remaining plates and silverware by the sink. Bombur even paused his work in the kitchen to help bring in more food; a cook can only make a proper feast if he has the proper ingredients.

Bilbo emerged from the his bedroom, having grabbed a pair of trousers and suspenders from a pile of older clothes he had kept in a side table. He had intended to either give them away or use them as hardy work clothes, though at the present moment he found himself glad to be out of his robe and at least one step closer toward appropriate attire. It would seem his guests were persistent on staying; he might as well attempt to be a proper host, that way he may actually accomplish something.

Watching the dwarves shuffle in and out of his pantry reminded Bilbo of a busy day at the market, like one following a terrible storm in which every hobbit and his brother were out trying to restock on essential supplies or make a profit amidst the chaos. Though the shouting was not caused by a wave of panic or barter, the dwarves' explosive cheers and comments crowded Bilbo, making him feel as though he were stuck inside a hole while the dwarves trampled over his small body.

Bombur walked out of the pantry, a large platter of thickly sliced chicken in his hands. Bilbo attempted to stuff the rest of his nightshirt into his pants, forgetting his suspenders entirely and hobbling over to the massively round dwarf.

"Uh - excuse me, that's my chicken." He blurted out, flabbergasted that the dwarves had not only insisted on staying but were going to feast without so much as an acknowledgement or consent from their host.

Bombur continued into the dining room, setting the platter down on the table for others to take into the kitchen, seeing as his round frame didn't quite fit through the small space. Others streamed out of the pantry, carrying vegetables and dry goods that Bilbo had nearly forgotten he had. All the same, Bilbo found a mixture of disbelief and anger brewing in his belly. In the line of dwarves followed Bifur, carrying two bottles of aged wine from Bilbo's cellar.

"Um, if...if you don't -" Bilbo began, noticing the alcohol that he had been saving for a special occasion. "That's my wine! Excuse me!" He yelled, frustration apparent from the puffs of steam that tried to billow out of his ears.

To Bilbo's surprise, the dwarf stopped in the middle of the hall, having actually heard the hobbit's comments of protest. Aside from Balin's unwarranted forgiveness earlier on, none of the dwarves had truly stopped to acknowledge Bilbo in his own home. Bilbo tugged on a suspender, yanking it up over his shoulder as if to emphasize his serious opposition.

The dwarf uttered something in dwarvish, Khuzdul if Bilbo could recall. Though he was not sure what the dwarf had said, he relished in the small moment of recognition - he was beginning to think he was a ghost to these men. Bilbo shook himself from the dizzying atmosphere, looking at the dwarf as if staring would help him to understand the language. As if waking from a daydream, he noticed the axe in Bifur's forehead, crusted and unmoving in a burrow of flesh.

The look of horror must have caught Oin's attention, for he tapped on Bilbo's shoulder. "He's got an injury." He stated, as though the obvious weren't blatant enough.

"You mean the axe in his head?" Bilbo asked flatly. " _I can't believe I just asked that._ " He thought, struggling to grasp his mind around how odd the night was becoming.

"Dead?" Oin asked, pointing the trumpet apparatus lodged in his ear towards Bilbo, as if to hear him better. "No. Only between his ears." He continued, having misheard the hobbit but not pausing long enough for Bilbo to clarify. His eyes widened slightly, "His legs work fine." The old dwarf finished, brushing past Bilbo to follow Dwalin into the pantry.

Bilbo stood in the midst of the circling dwarves, stuck in a dazed trance. His home was unraveling and Bilbo's grasp on his belongings was crumbling with it. Just as self pity began to sink in, he saw Dwalin emerge from the pantry with yet another platter of meat, only this was Mrs. Bank's famous honey-dried turkey.

"I'll have some of that!" Fili exclaimed as he walked past the platter, eyes wide with excitement.

" _No, you will not._ " Bilbo thought, whipping his head around to follow the meat into the dining room. His body followed after, moving in slow motion as the dwarves spun around him.

"Put - put those back!" Bilbo stammered as he eyed a plate of oatmeal cookies in Bombur's hands. The dwarf continued into the dining room, passing off the plate to Fili before turning around to grab more food.

Bilbo followed Bombur, spinning around to face the pantry once more. Ori walked past, carrying a bowl of freshly shelled boiled eggs. "Put that back!" He yelled at the dwarf, who gave him a sheepish smile in return.

As if on queue, Nori walked out of the pantry on Bilbo's other side with two jars of honey. " _Not my clover honey!_ " Bilbo thought, wanting to lunge at the dwarf to pry the sweet sticky stuff from his hands. "Put that back." He growled out with a finger extended.

"Not the jam, please." He called into the pantry, having glanced at the shelf where his honey had sat moments before. In what appeared to be an act of defiance, Kili grabbed almost every jar of jam, jelly, and preserves he could hold, walking out of the pantry with the glass containers balanced against his chest.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, Bilbo adjusted his other suspender strap, having let the twisted piece of fabric hang from his waist in his panicked frenzy. Bombur carried out three rolls of creamy gouda, resting his round chin on top.

"It's a tad excessive, isn't it?" Bilbo asked, coming to terms with the fact that his pantry was picked dry as it was; there was no use trying to gather up his food to hoard once more. "Have you got a cheese knife?" He asked in an attempt to at least help the dwarves eat cleanly and politely; if they were to eat his food in his home, he might as well play the part of a host.

"Cheese knife? "He eats it by the block." Bofur called in his merry voice, continuing into the dining room carrying a baked ham in his hands. Bilbo was so flustered, he had failed to notice.

Bilbo loved his food, especially the finer delicacies and recipes. He ate two breakfasts a day, lunch, dinner, supper, and snacked in between with tea. Yet somehow the notion of consuming an entire block of cheese was too much for him to handle - his stomach grew full at the thought.

Fili and Kili walked into the pantry, picking up the half-full barrel of ale that sat in the middle island. Carrying it out, they moved to set it by the door both for easier access and to make room for one more full barrel when they got to it.

Bilbo pushed down the urge to ask the dwarves what they intended to do with the barrel when he saw Oin and Gloin walking in from down the hall, carrying two of Grandpa Mungo's chairs from the front storage room. The sight of this was all too much.

"No, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair." He said to Gloin, who simply walked past the nagging hobbit. "No, so is that." Bilbo said to Oin, who stopped to point at his ear to indicate he could not hear what Bilbo was saying.

Bilbo took this to his advantage, pushing on the legs of the chair to steer the old dwarf around. "Take it back, please." He said as Oin pushed back, determined to reach the dining room. "It's an antique. Not for sitting on." Bilbo added, saying each word with emphasis as if to get the message through.

It seemed to have worked, much to Bilbo's relief, for he let go as soon as Oin turned around down the hall. Only, Oin walked down the hall and through the parlor, taking the chair away from hobbit eyes and through the kitchen instead.

"Oh, not a coaster. Put that map down!" Bilbo called out, watching as more dwarves emerged from down the hall carrying trays and pictures that they intended to use as tabletops.

* * *

Fili re-emerged from the dining room, mug of ale in hand. His eyes wandered around the crossroads of the pantry, a smile growing on his face at the sight of his friends and family preparing for their celebration feast. He brought the mug to his lips, letting the warm ale tickle his mustache as he took a long drink.

Movement at the west end of the hall caught his attention, his facial braids swinging in his sudden shift in movement. The girl had come out of the bathroom, wrapped from head to toe in towels, and jogged into another room to the left. The sight of the girl left a brief impression in Fili's mind, his thoughts wandering to the towels and the implications of what could be found underneath. He quickly dismissed the thoughts, realizing the opportunity to apologize lay before him.

"Kili!" He shouted, calling for his brother.

Kili emerged from the dining room as well, a mug of ale in his own hand. "Brother?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"Take this." Fili demanded, thrusting his ale into his brother's free hand.

Kili took the mug eagerly, a questioning smile on his lips. "Where are you going?" He asked, watching Fili turn to walk down the hall.

"To speak with the girl." Fili answered, not wanting to draw too much attention as to why he needed to see her. The apology was not meant for open observation or wandering ears.

Kili's eyes lit up at the thought of the woman. She was neither Bilbo's betrothed nor any one else's it would seem, and so the opportunity to flirt lay present on his mind. Despite his brother's warnings about promiscuous behavior, Kili figured this opportunity was too easy to pass up. It wasn't every day he found himself in such a carefree atmosphere with a woman as available as this Hayden presumed to be.

"Here." Kili said, turning to Ori who had just come out of the dining room in retrieval of more food from the pantry. He gave the young dwarf the two mugs of ale, smiling as Ori took them with a confused glance without having much choice.

Not waiting for Ori to question the exchange or where he was off to, Kili jogged down the hallway in pursuit of his brother who had yet to reach the door the girl had disappeared behind.

Bilbo turned from his rotating spot in the middle of the hall, watching as Fili and Kili took off toward the west end of his home. Most of the dwarves had stayed in the central part, focusing on the food and furniture Bilbo wanted returned to their places of origin.

As soon as he saw the dwarves passing his study and making their way towards Hayden's room, he found his hairy feet scurrying after them. He hadn't had the chance to speak with Hayden since the dwarves had taken over, but he saw the saddened eyes that had glanced down the hall after coming out of the bathroom.

"OH! No, no, no,." Bilbo stammered, following the two brothers down his hallway. Though they were barely any taller than he, they seemed to walk much faster. Perhaps their legs were longer and he made up for it in his torso. He couldn't be sure, and it wasn't the time to be pondering such trivial things.

"Best not bother the lady right now. She's had a rather long, tiring day and an even longer, more exhausting time here it would seem. And I, uh, I don't think she likes men." He finished, placing his hands on his hips trying to look as intimidating as he wanted to sound. She had taken long to warm up to him and get back to herself; he wasn't about to go and let some hairy, intruding creatures jeopardize that.

The two dwarves had stopped in the middle of the hallway just before the guest room to listen to the hobbit's tirade. Bilbo thought this good progress, though his words had fallen on deaf ears.

Kili stepped forward, a mischievous grin on his scruffy face. "Then it is a fortunate thing, Master Boggins, that we are not of the race of men." He finished with a quick upward jolt of his eyebrows before turning cheekily to his brother, who gave him a nod of severe disapproval.

"Kili, go back to the preparations." Fili said, shooting his brother a look of utter annoyance as he walked.

"It's Baggins. Please, Master dwarves, I don't -" Bilbo protested, as they ignored his comments and walked the rest of the way down the hall to her door.

Fili turned to Bilbo, an intensiveness still present in his eyes. "All will be fine, dear host," Fili quipped, brushing off Bilbo with the wave of a hand. His intentions were not malicious or as cocky as his brother's - he simply wanted a chance to apologize.

Just as Bilbo went to protest, a hand clapped him on the shoulder and gently pulled him backwards. "Mister Bilbo, few of us would enjoy a cup of tea though I cannot seem to find it in your pantry." Complained a rather impatient but polite Dori. "I searched through your cupboards only to find an array of herbs and spices, but none that would suit well for drinking."

At the reminder of his cupboards and pantry being uprooted, Bilbo ran a hand through his curly locks in distress, letting out a whimper. "Yes, well, I keep my tea elsewhere, perhaps that is why. I will bring you some selections, just," he stammered, ushering the dwarf towards the kitchen once again, "wait in the kitchen. And don't touch anything else, please."

With that, he walked off towards his study where his brilliant books often awaited him. Their stories and histories rich with adventure and escape while maintaining the comforts of his home. On his desk in the corner amidst the pieces of parchment and various ink wells lying about, was a box with segregated sections of herbs and spices. He lifted the lid carefully, taking stock of his already dwindling supply. He had forgotten to pick up more tea earlier this day, and made a mental note to go to the market later in the week to resupply, though it was evident he needed to restock quite a lot more than that. And then some.

Despite his better judgment, he emptied the contents of his chamomile blend into an empty saucer with haste. "There is plenty of this to go around," he whispered to himself, and defiantly prepared to argue with the dwarves if they requested a different blend.

Saucer in hand, he left the room with a hurried click of the door's latch. He walked briskly back down the winding hall towards the kitchen, noting that the dwarf brothers were in what looked to be a heated conversation with Miss Hayden.

" _Heated scolding is more like it,"_ he thought, as he continued on into the kitchen, focusing on the task at hand. He briefly hoped that he didn't await a scolding when this was all over, but his thoughts were bombarded by the sight of a wheel of aged cheese being rolled down the hallway by two dwarves in some sort of race, knocking tables and knick-knacks over in its path.

"These dwarves!" Bilbo ushered out, practically dropping the saucer.


	9. The Apology and The Ale

Deep down under the billowing sheets and over fluffed pillows, Hayden had wrapped herself into oblivion. The thundering voices of the dwarves echoed down the hallway, pouring under the door and through the walls; it mocked Hayden in her state of solitude, her constrained sobs drowning in the sound of their merriment.

Once more, Hayden found herself alone and tired, clinging to the sheets of the bed like the lifeline they had been during her early weeks in Middle-Earth. Though she had never struggled with having to avoid company or being excluded from parties with Daniel, the night had brought about the same feelings of inadequacy from Hayden. Was she not worthy enough of Bilbo's friendship for him to include her on such an event inside his home? Had she upset him earlier when they had argued over Bilbo's secrecy of the wizard's encounter? Had Bilbo let her chop wood so she could be out of the way?

She just couldn't understand why she had been the last to know of the dinner party. Perhaps she had taken her place in his home too seriously, acting too boldly and partaking in Bilbo's life too informally. She was a guest just as these dwarves were; maybe it was time she acted like one rather than a tenant.

The run in with the blond dwarf had left her brain in a scrambled mess and her heart worse for wear. What had she been thinking, wanting to engage in further conversation with the bigot? He obviously held minimal opinions concerning the ability of women and no respect for one's parents.

" _I can't believe he insulted my father like that, as if his abilities were sub-par. I agree my skills aren't where they should be, but how dare he suggest my father weren't as well. I'd like to see him chop wood all day after not having any sort of weapons practice for years - to hell with his dwarvish techniques!_ " She thought, shaking her head into the pillow that was buried over her face. " _I don't need blondie's approval._ " She thought.

She couldn't care less if she saw the dwarf again, so long as she could maintain things with Bilbo - that's all that truly mattered. She had no where else to go and no path to follow; just as she had done with Daniel, she would figure out what needed to be fixed about herself in order to make Bilbo happy.

Yet there was some small glimmer of attraction, a curiosity that sat at the back of her mind. Why had the dwarf been so familiar to her? His eyes had been so true, as if they held all the answers to every question she could ever ask. Hayden found herself wanting to forgive him for his comments in order to speak with him once more, at least for the opportunity to feel as peaceful as she had when they locked eyes.

A loud knock on the door caused her to jump, her heart pounding in her ears. The halls of laughter had become white noise to her and she hadn't expected anyone to come looking for her. " _They're not looking for me._ " She thought. " _I bet someone's lost their way to the bathroom._ "

She stayed silent, hoping that the knocker would turn to see the bathroom to the right of her room and be on their way. When there was no second knock, Hayden breathed a sigh of relief, taking the opportunity to roll over onto her back. The moonlight was beginning to pour into her room, pooling on the foot of the bed. She stuck her leg out from the blankets, wiggling her bare foot around in the moon's light. She imagined feeling warmth, as one does underneath the sun's rays; her mother used to speak of the moon in this way, loving the way it felt on her skin. Hayden had always tried to feel the same thing as her mother yet was never quite able to. Still, she tried just the same.

Hayden sat up in the bed, pulling the covers up to her bare chest. The cold, wet towels lay around her in piled heaps, having thoroughly soaked portions of the bed and covered her body with goosebumps. Though still uncomfortable with the evening's events, she urged herself to get up and dress. She might as well do something with her night, and she wouldn't dare be caught naked in a house full of men.

Just as she stood to walk to the wardrobe, another knock came ringing through the wooden door. Hayden froze, reaching for the robe that was draped underneath one of her towels. Silently she slid it from the bed, putting her arms through the damp sleeves and tying the cord around her waist. She assumed it was a dwarf, for Bilbo would have undoubtedly knocked with a polite comment or greeting. If she was quiet enough, perhaps they would leave.

Another knock came, slightly louder this time. Hayden looked down, checking to make sure her robe was covering her body properly, before taking a few steps toward the door. She heard two voices on the other side, arguing over some issue. Perhaps they had been arguing for a while, having been the source of the first knock a minute or so before. Hayden had been so lost in thought and contemplation, she figured she must have blocked the banter out.

"Go! Our cousins and kinsmen are in need of assistance." A voice said, rough and aggravated.

"No. I have every right to be here just as you do." The other voice said, higher in pitch yet just as agitated.

"I have a reason to speak with her - you do not." The first voice slapped back, angry in tone.

" _Oh no._ " Hayden thought, clasping a hand around her mouth. " _I bet it's blondie. He's come to pick on me some more._ "

"What is your reason, then?" The second asked, full of doubt.

"My reason is none of your concern." The first said, dropping to a harsh whisper.

Hayden gulped, wanting nothing to do with either of these dwarves' reasons to speak to her. She could only assume the worst, having known all too well what alcohol and anger can do to certain men - she didn't know if any of these dwarves were like Daniel, and she certainly planned on never finding out.

"It is my concern, seeing as you think you can prance around with women after telling me I don't dare think of it." The other voice answered back. Hayden assumed there must have been some slight physical altercation, as she heard a few shuffled steps.

"Please leave!" Hayden shouted through the door, placing her palm on the wood. She didn't expect the dwarves to intrude on her, but she wanted to be prepared all the same.

Silence filled the space between them, save for the cheers and jubilant conversations from down the hall. Hayden hadn't heard them leave, yet she wasn't sure they were set on sticking around either.

"Please miss. I only wish to apologize!" The first voice called.

Hayden knew instantly it was the blond. A wave of regret washed over her, enticing her to open the door. She knew better, though, ignoring her instincts and keeping the door shut.

"I did not mean for my comments to harm you nor did I mean any offense towards your father. I should not have spoken so boldly without prior knowledge." He said, his voice pleading.

Hayden felt a smile grow on her face. Though his words had indeed cut her deeply, she realized her reaction had been far too rash for the situation. She should have listened to his explanation and apology when he had offered it outside. Instead, she had let the resentment and confusion over Bilbo's party eat at her, concocting a foul and stubborn mood that had taken hold.

When she didn't answer, the blond continued. "I don't believe your gender or race has any restriction on your abilities. In fact, I believe you to be quite talented. The way in which I chose to convey this to you was wrong. It was selfish of me to assume my words would fall on your ears in the way I had meant them. For that, I am truly sorry. You are a sight to behold, and your abilities only strengthen that."

"Thank you." She said, letting her hand fall from the door's panel to find its way to her cheek. It was flush and hot with appreciativeness.

Perhaps there was hope for the night, that she might converse with the blond and be included in dinner. She wasn't sure about the others; he had been the only one who came to help her. Dwalin and Balin had appeared to be friendly, but she couldn't be sure. She wasn't too keen on whomever this second dwarf was outside her door, insisting he had reason to speak to her as if he was entitled to a conversation.

"Hayden?" The second voice called, inquiring if she was still at the door.

" _How does he know my name?_ " Hayden thought, wrinkling her face up. She recalled giving it to the two dwarves she met earlier - they must have spoken about her. At the thought of the spotlight falling on her were she to emerge, she took a few steps back.

"I said thank you!" She yelled through the door, more carefree than she had intended. She wanted to be polite, but she didn't want them to think she was up for company or a candid chat.

"If you open the door, I can give you something to be thankful for." The second voice called out with an immature laugh.

The comment was all too much for Hayden, especially coming from this privileged, cocky dwarf. Blondie had made his peace with her, not asking for more and not passing any boundary. This other one had seen the line drawn and crossed it deliberately, jumping over it with a false sense of victory.

Hayden flew at the door, yanking it open with the burning rage she had come to know was inherited from her father. "You should be thankful I don't knock you on your merry little ass, you inconsiderate bastard!" She yelled, pointing a finger at the dwarf. She recognized him from the pantry earlier, the one she had expected to lend a hand in the hall. "What makes you think I would ever let you touch me, let alone come into my room!"

The dark haired dwarf opened his mouth, either to speak or in shock; Hayden thought he looked like a fish gasping in air. "Don't think that just because your friend shows some empathy that I'm some cheap girl waiting to be fondled by an overconfident boy. You didn't even have the decency to help me earlier; all you could do was stand behind a chair when I asked for help. At least he did something!" She yelled, wet strands of hair clinging to her cheeks and poking the corners of her mouth. She jabbed a finger towards the blond, keeping her eyes on his darker-haired accomplice.

"Don't you ever suggest that I'm some whorish girl you can win over with cheap words again or I'll make you wish you had a chair to hide behind." She spat out, giving him an angered stare before meeting the blond's gaze as well. He looked surprised yet not as angry as she would have imagined. He almost looked relieved.

Slamming the door, she leaned up against it with her back. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, causing her skin to tingle with a chill. She heard a booming voice call out from down the hall, indicating that something was about to happen. Hayden assumed dinner was ready and the two other dwarves were being called to feast. Once their footsteps left her end of the hall, she let out a sigh of relief.

She moved to sit on the end of the bed, letting the moonlight hit her face. Hayden never liked getting angry and she certainly was hardly ever as aggressive as she had just been. Seeing the younger dwarf in his frightened stupor had calmed in her a sense - he was not the sex crazed tyrant she feared but rather an inexperienced, careless young man.

She looked out the window and to the moon, peaking out behind a large stormy cloud. Though she couldn't feel anything on her skin, she felt a warm prickle blooming in her chest. Despite the younger dwarf's comment, her thoughts stayed on his companion. The blond wasn't that bad, he at least had the decency to apologize after she had refused to listen. If she were to eat with them, what would they talk about? Would they talk at all? Would he look at her differently after she had scolded his comrade so badly? Would he look at her at all?

Sitting on the bed for what felt like ages, Hayden finally stood on her tired feet. The robe had kept her relatively warm yet the splotches of wetness had chilled her as well. Her wet hair had begun to dry, and she hadn't yet combed out the tangles and knots. Turning on an oil lamp, she stood in front of the mirror near the bed and began working on her auburn locks with a hairbrush that had belonged to Bilbo's mother.

After her hair had been smoothed and parted, she set to braiding it back. With nowhere to be and nothing to do, she took the time to French braid it, starting at her forehead and working her way back to the nape of her neck. She had spent countless hours trying to perfect the French braid, only having mastered the art in her later years. She was never able to copy her mother's works of art, though she would often try. Her mother used to cover her head in elaborate braids that looked so delicate they would fall apart at the slightest touch, yet they were sturdy enough to last for weeks on end.

She stood, placing the robe on the door hook and finally decided to dress herself. Grabbing a pair of Bilbo's worn black trousers, she shimmied them on, swiftly buttoning them with one hand. She grabbed her worn tank top, slipping it over her head with a small amount of resentment. Her exposed bruises gave her reason to worry, yet she realized she wouldn't have to hide them from anyone if she stayed in her room. If she did go out briefly, she could simply put on the robe. She doubted she'd be dining with anyone, so she saw no reason to put on one of Bilbo's borrowed tunics.

There was a small knock on the door, to which Hayden sucked in a shallow breath. She didn't have the time or patience to deal with any hot head dwarves right now.

"Hayden? It's me. It's Bilbo." Bilbo called out, sounding defeated and undoubtedly tired.

Hayden walked to the door, opening it a crack and giving the hobbit a half smile. She knew she didn't need to cause a scene or make him any more angry with her if he was upset, yet she wasn't entirely happy with him either.

"Thank goodness you're alright." He sang out, placing a hand on his forehead in relief. "I'm so sorry about all of this. I don't suppose you know what's going on?" He asked.

The question took her off guard, her brows furrowing in confusion. "No, I don't know anything. I was actually wondering why you had kept me in the dark about a party this large." She said, trying to keep her voice light so as not to come off as frustrated.

"Kept you in the dark?" Bilbo asked, scrunching his nose up. "I'm in the dark myself, although I believe Gandalf has something to do with all of this." He said, placing a hand on his hip.

"What do you mean - you mean this isn't a dinner party you arranged?" Hayden asked, leaning against the door frame.

"No." He said, shaking his head violently. "I don't know any of these dwarves." He added with a stomp of his foot. "I don't know why they're here, why they're eating all of my food, or why my house looks like a storm has blown through it - they've irreversibly undone your hard work in the parlor with their belongings and weapons and muddy tracks, the kitchen's an abhorrent disaster, my pantry is all but eaten, and I swear if those -" Bilbo began.

Hayden reached out and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. He sighed, shaking off his frustrations. "How many are there?" She asked, not sure if she had met the majority of his house guests.

"Twelve plus Gandalf." He said, rubbing his eyes. "At least I believe there's twelve. There could be more; it seems they all multiplied like rabbits." He said with a slight chuckle.

"Twelve?!" Hayden asked, taken aback at the amount of people in Bilbo's small home. "Do you want me to ask them to leave? I will." She said much more confidently than she felt. Taking on a dwarf or two when provoked was one thing, but taking on a whole tribe of them with no adrenaline propelling her forward was another.

"No, that's alright. I have tried all night." Bilbo said, waving a hand in the air. "I want them gone, yes. They are already here and I believe they've already done the most damage they can. I know one thing is for certain - they are not staying any longer than tonight. I will not have twelve uninvited guests staying for a holiday." Bilbo said, staring down the hall.

Hayden shook her head, disbelief coming over her. Obviously it wasn't common in Middle-Earth to have this many uninvited guests, yet she couldn't recall a time where this situation had ever been acceptable or even plausible in her own world.

With a shaky voice, she sought to relieve the weight on her mind. "I was beginning to believe I had angered you in some way and you had decided to leave me out of the whole thing, that you wanted me away from festivities as some sort of punishment." She said, blushing at her misunderstanding of the whole night.

"No! I'm not mad with you a'tall, Hayden. Why would you ever think such a thing?" He asked with wide eyes.

"Well you kept Gandalf from me all morning and afternoon. I thought maybe in the midst of that mess you had forgotten to mention something about these plans." She replied shyly, quirking up the corner of her mouth.

"I had nothing planned for tonight except dinner with you, which I'm very pleased to say is still in the kitchen waiting. It may not be warm, but it's still fresh and tasty." He said, looking up at his friend with a remorseful yet happy grin. "That is why I came to get you. They've all begun eating - feasting carnivorously is more like it - and I found myself with a free moment to check on you."

"I'm not sure I'm hungry Bilbo." She said, holding her growling stomach. All she wanted to do was eat yet she had put off the craving to finish her chore; she had forgotten about satisfying her stomach after the argument with the dwarf. As such, she did not want to mingle with twelve dwarves and a conniving wizard; food would be available in the morning.

"Please, I insist." Bilbo said, huffing out a breath. "I made something I think you'll love and you worked so hard today. I know you're hungry - a hobbit can always tell when someone else is hungry." He added playfully.

Hayden stood for a moment, watching as Bilbo's pleading eyes searched hers for an answer. "Alright. But can I eat in the kitchen? I don't really want to converse with any dwarves." She said, an anxious breath on her lips.

"Of course." Bilbo said with a smile, extending his arm for her to take.

"Just a moment. I need to cover up my arms." Hayden said, reaching around the back of the door for the robe. She put an arm through the sleeve, looking down at her half exposed bosom. Perhaps a tank top was not the best idea, seeing as it already left her bruises exposed.

"Let me change my shirt, actually." She said, giving him a sheepish smile. "I'll be right there."

"Take your time, your dinner is on the counter in the kitchen. I'll be in the dining room or the pantry, whatever is most chaotic at the moment and needs managing." He said through pursed lips.

Closing the door, Hayden ran a hand over her braid, making sure the pieces of hair were tucked and weaved properly. She wasn't ready to sit down to a feast with twelve boisterous dwarves but she didn't want to look like the mess she felt like; the blond and his younger companion had already seen her in an unpleasant state. It would be smart to be somewhat presentable; she wasn't sure what the rest of the night would hold.

* * *

"We need more ale!" Gloin shouted, looking around to the others.

"Aye!" Bombur cheered, gulping the last sip from his mug.

"I could use some more." Nori said, holding up his nearly empty mug.

Looking inside his mug that was nearly full, Bofur cried out, "Mines been dry since I sat down!"

The group talked amongst themselves, comparing who needed more ale and who hadn't had enough as it was, as Dori and Gloin stood to see to filling the mugs with more ale. Fili and Kili sat at the southern end piling their plates with sausages and cheeses, Kili avoiding any green piece of food he could.

"I've never heard a woman yell so loud, save for mother. It was only a joke." Kili said under his breath, more to himself than to his brother.

Fili let a wide smile grow under his mustache. He felt Kili deserved every bit of punishment he could get for speaking to Hayden so disrespectfully; he treated women as a prize to win rather than a gift to earn. He knew his brother was young and senseless when it came to those matters, yet he felt his inexperience was no excuse. It was obvious that no words or lectures could make Kili understand the consequences of his actions better than a scolding from a woman.

"It was not a joke and you know it." Fili said, shaking his head at the memory of Kili's stunned face when Hayden came out of the door.

"It may not have been intended as a joke." Kili admitted, popping a cubed potato in his mouth. "But it was not meant to be taken seriously. Surely she knew that." He said through bites.

Fili shook his head, cutting a piece of meat before neatly stuffing it in his mouth as well. "I think you assume much too often when it comes to what women want to hear and what you tell them." Fili said, his mouth just as full as his brother's.

"What does that mean?" Kili asked as he took another bite, pieces of potato crumbling out of his mouth.

"It means," Fili began, swallowing before he continued, "that you speak to women as if you are the breath to their lungs, the water to their parched throats." He said, waving his hand around in the air in an attempt to appear more prophetic. Kili stared back at him blankly, missing the point entirely.

Fili sighed in frustration, taking a drink of his ale to wash the food down his throat. "You approach women as though you are competing in some sport, as though they are an object you wish to possess and seek to do so through inappropriate comments and disrespectful mindsets."

Kili chewed for a moment, turning his potatoes into pulverized mush. He swallowed hard, as though he had also consumed a giant pill of truth. "I don't wish to disrespect them, only to impress them. I don't want my efforts going unnoticed when up against other, more capable men." He whispered, eyeing Dori and Ori who were sitting near. He didn't want the company hearing their conversation.

"Then take tonight's encounter to heart. Don't make crude comments and don't liken women to objects. They are creatures of worth and deserve to be treated as such. If you really care about winning a woman's heart, treat her as though you're willing to give her yours in return." Fili said, locking eyes with his brother. Hopefully Kili would understand this time around.

"Who is trying to win a woman's heart?" Ori asked excitedly, leaning in toward the end of the table.

"I believe it is Fili." Balin said from the other end of the table. "Did you see the way he ran down the hall earlier?" He asked openly; he aimed the comment at Kili, who nodded enthusiastically. Kili was glad to have the attention drawn away from his own mishap.

Fili felt a blush spread across his cheeks, solidifying their assumptions regarding his actions and reactions towards Hayden. He took a long drink, hoping the mug would both hide his face and help to sway the conversation elsewhere. Unfortunately, his silence only fed the fire.

"If you're trying to woo, take note from Gloin." Bombur said as he put a piece of bread in his mouth. "He's the only one of us with a wife." He added, giving Fili and Kili a knowing glance, causing the others to chuckle as well.

"Did someone say they have a knife?" Oin asked, putting down his mug to bring his ear trumpet up. "Where is it stuck; is it deep?" He asked, ready to pry a blade from one of his companions.

Dwalin patted Oin on the back, letting him know he had misheard. "Telsi is a beauty. One of the finest dwarven beards I've seen on a woman." Dwalin added, smiling over to his elder kinsman.

Bifur smiled warmly before speaking in Khuzdul to Gloin across the table with a few sincere nods.

"And an angel she is, at that." Gloin replied through a smile. "She has born unto me a son unlike any I could have asked for."

Kili looked at his brother, remembering when they had spent time with Gloin's son Gimli. "You do have an obligation to wed, brother." Kili chimed in. "If you're able to find someone, that is." He added with a slight smirk. "I would take all the advice I could get if I were in your position."

"If I am to die in battle then you will be in my position, so perhaps you should take note as well." Fili barked back, standing from the table with his mug in hand. He slid behind chairs, holding his mug up over everyone's heads. "Who needs another ale?" He asked in a much more cheery tone, attempting once more to guide the conversation somewhere else.

The table exploded with cheers and requests for more ale, to which Fili obliged. He ran back and forth from the barrel, filling mug after mug until his companions either had consumed three drinks or were satisfied with another topic of conversation.

Making his way back on a final trip, he jumped up on the table with eight ales in hand. Stepping over platter after bowl, he skipped and danced down the table, passing out mugs until one was left in each hand. He handed both to Kili, jumping down off the table and taking his seat once more before reaching to take his mug from his brother's hand.

The twelve of them ate their shares, welcoming Gandalf into the room as well. Surprisingly, he found his own small spot on a bench and was busy pilling vegetables and cheeses onto a small dish with a smile on his face. Fili was glad to see the wizard, though he was unsure as to what he should expect from such a person on their journey. Gandalf had found a burglar and had helped to guide Uncle on arranging this quest, so Fili assumed Gandalf couldn't be all that bad.

When his belly had exceeded capacity and his body was warm with alcohol, Fili stopped eating. His companions urged him to eat more, tanking bits and pieces off of his plate in the process. He simply sat back and smiled, joking with the others over trivial things. It was after a few moments of rest that he saw Hayden through the archway looking into the kitchen. She was at the sink, washing her hands with her head hanging low.

Whether or not Gandalf had risen because of the girl, Fili couldn't be sure. He watched the wizard wipe his mouth before crouching into the kitchen, nodding to the girl as she turned to face him. Fili found himself watching them, wanting nothing more than to slip into the room unnoticed to hear their conversation. If the wizard was interested in her, Fili wanted to know why. He ignored the fact that he himself was interested in her.

As the girl and wizard slipped out of Fili's view, he grew anxious. His palms began to sweat, a gnawing urge to follow them crept up in the back of his mind. He took one look around at the table, eyeing his companions and kinsmen smiling with full mouths, wet beards, and happy eyes. He wouldn't be missed, and even if he was, he'd blame it on the ale.

Without hesitating, Fili stood from the table and walked to the arch. He stood just behind Dwalin, putting his hands on the older dwarf's shoulders as if to appear interested in the conversation at the other end of the table. No one mentioned anything, instead having begun belching contests after chugging more ale. From here he could appear occupied but still lend a prying ear into the kitchen.

* * *

Hayden turned from the sink, drying her hands on a towel on the counter. A tall, old man entered from the dining room, clad in grey from head to toe. She could only assume this was the wizard behind the night's spontaneous festivities. He was fairly large, appearing as a giant to Hayden; she assumed he was an average size for a human considering she was near Bilbo's height and he was a hobbit. The size difference shook her at first, making her feel entirely like an ant watching as a foot hovered above her small body.

She walked slowly to the table where her food sat, untouched just as Bilbo had said. Avoiding the man's gaze, she sat carefully and picked up the fork and knife that sat waiting as well, the cold metal a relief against her hot skin. Popping a few potatoes in her mouth, she closed her eyes in delight; Bilbo's cooking was unparalleled. As soon as she swallowed, she realized she'd have to open her eyes and either converse or ignore the man.

Hayden swiftly piled a forkful of trout into her mouth, gazing into the dining room as if to inquire what was happening. She didn't truly care, but she wanted to at least appear sociable, even though her very act was done in avoidance of socializing with the tall man. She saw Bilbo in the dining room, struggling to walk behind the chairs around the table to survey the damage done to his furniture and the mess of food on the floor. There was a loud noise in the hall; Bilbo scrambled out to see what had happened.

Left with no excuse to avoid the man further, she looked up at him, surprised to see his warm eyes watching her eat. He gripped his staff tighter, either out of necessity or nervousness, Hayden couldn't be sure. He smoothed a hand over his head, letting out a well awaited breath.

"My Lady." He said, bowing his shoulders in greeting. "I'm Gandalf. I don't believe we have met." He drawled out with a welcoming smile.

"I'm Hay -" She began, taking a moment to swallow the food that was in her mouth. "Hayden." She finished, blushing at her impolite chew-talk.

"Hayden?" Gandalf asked openly, drawing her name out in question of a surname. He squinted his eyes as if to put her foreign name to memory.

"Telchara." She replied, looking at him through her eyelashes.

This wizard had orchestrated the dwarvish dinner party and set Bilbo into an anxious frenzy earlier in the morning. Bilbo had warned her about the man, claiming he could be deceitful and persuasive to no end. Surely her last name had no ties to anyone in Middle-Earth, yet she felt giving him this knowledge could be dangerous in some way.

"Telchara...yes." The wizard said, nodding his head and staring through Hayden. His eyes landed on hers yet they peered straight through; he was elsewhere in his thoughts.

She shifted uncomfortably under his blank stare, knowing he was not gawking at her small stature but rather searching for something in his mind. Hayden cut a few more bits of fish, moving the meat around on her plate before finally taking a large mouthful.

At the mention of Hayden's full name, Fili let go of Dwalin's shoulders to take a step towards the kitchen. He took special note of the surname as well, rolling it over his tongue in silence. Why did the name sound so familiar? Was this girl someone he knew, or rather, should have known?

"It is a name I have not heard in quite a long time." Gandalf said after a minute, blinking back into focus. "Though it is slightly different now than it was." He added, smiling at Hayden.

Hayden sat with her fork at the ready, pierced through a tender potato and carrot and hanging in midair. She wanted desperately to ask him what he meant, how he could have possibly tied her surname to someone else's in Middle-Earth. She wanted to tell him his association was false, that she had just arrived in this world. Perhaps this is what he wanted; maybe the wizard was saying something outright ridiculous to get a reaction out of the girl. She didn't want to be played, even if she was being paranoid.

"Your dinner smelled delicious. I almost took a bite myself but was stopped by Dwalin. He informed me you had been chopping wood and were due to come inside for your supper at any moment." Gandalf said, looking into the dining room briefly to see Dwalin chugging another mug of ale with the others.

"I'll have to thank him for saving it for me." Hayden said, smiling briefly at the polite gesture. Given the way the dwarves were devouring the contents of the pantry, she hadn't expected a single morsel of food to be left for her.

"Yes. It has been quite a long time since I've observed an act of selflessness concerning a meal from a dwarf, especially a warrior. They often appear to be slightly rough around the edges, as you can tell. But his heart is good." Gandalf said, smiling at Hayden.

She looked back at the wizard, smiling in return for the first time. Perhaps Bilbo hadn't gathered the full truth about the man. After all, he hadn't seen Gandalf since he was young at his grandfather's summer parties. Children can have imaginations that run wild with them, influencing all sorts of inaccurate and outlandish depictions of the world and those in it.

Gandalf's gaze moved from Hayden's eyes to her outstretched arms on the kitchen table. They were black and blue in spots, red and yellow in others. For him, her injuries outweighed her surname and the implications of it were his assumptions correct. He would have plenty of time to inquire about her family. He had no doubt she would join them on the quest for Erebor.

"You appear to have sustained some injuries." He said, looking from Hayden's arms back to her face with worry.

"I uhm. Well, you see, I..." Hayden began, fidgeting to hide the bruises on her arms that had poked out from Bilbo's tunic. She hadn't prepared herself for such questions, especially from a wizard. Gandalf was nice enough, but she wasn't sure if she could trust him just yet.

"Your bruises appear to be very serious. How did they come to be on your skin?" The grey man asked, placing both hands on his staff. "Surely those cannot be products of your wood chopping?"

Hayden wrapped her arms around her elbows, biting her lip in the silence. For one reason or another, she felt lying to the man would only cause more issues down the road. He was a wizard, after all. Perhaps he could answer some of her questions surrounding her death and re-birth in Middle-Earth. Given the fact that Bilbo had believed her story, there was a good chance this man would as well. Perhaps he already knew.

"I've actually had them for a while. Almost a month I believe." Hayden said, shifting her eyes to the wizard's steady gaze and back to her half eaten plate.

Fili stood up straighter, angling his shoulders so he stood more in the path of the conversation. He had failed to notice the bruises earlier yet desperately wanted to know where they had come from. He let the brief anger pass at the thought of Bilbo harming her - he suspected the hobbit was not capable of such things.

"Is that so?" Gandalf asked.

Hayden nodded a yes, moving the fork to pick at her fish.

"Bruises lingering that long could not have been given lightly." He said, as if to imply their origin without outright inquiring.

"They weren't." Hayden said, not giving the wizard any more information. She confirmed his suspicions but was uncomfortable with openly confessing the cause. She didn't want to bring Daniel into the mix if she didn't have to.

Fili crossed his arms, his brows furrowing at the indication that her bruises were a result of some sort of altercation or fight. A passionate rage began to build up inside his chest; he wanted to know who or what was responsible for harming Hayden. He tried to shake the feeling, realizing his reaction was unwarranted as he hardly knew her, yet found he was unable.

"Did they appear when you fell? When you awoke?" Gandalf asked, unmoving in stance.

Hayden nearly spat out the piece of fish she had been eating, swallowing it in a large gulp. "How did you know -" She began.

"I didn't, but I suspected." Gandalf simply stated, nodding his head with a twinkle in his eye. This small fact led him to believe his assumptions regarding her family were indeed true.

Fili didn't understand what was happening or what the wizard was implying. Where had she fallen, and how hard? He absentmindedly let out a large belch, receiving a pat on the back from Balin. He turned his head, looking quizzically at the older dwarf before hearing another, much more aggressive, burp coming from the other end of the room. The table was having a belching contest.

Hayden sat in silence, locked in contemplation with the wizard's knowing eyes. She set the fork down after a moment, shifting on the table's bench. "They aren't from when I fell." She said, finally answering his question. "I got them before." She added, looking down at her plate to avoid Gandalf's eyes. Did he know what she meant?

She hadn't dwelled lately on how the bruises came to be on her arms but simply let them remind her of how she came to be in Middle-Earth. The sudden memory of the night she died left her feeling empty as she tried to hide the tears that had hid behind her eyes, ready to fall like water lingering on the edge of a full glass.

As if knowing the bruises came from a malicious force, Gandalf sat in front of Hayden on the small bench. He reached out to her, patting her shoulder with his large hand in comfort. Hayden looked up to the old man, letting the tears fall as if in silent relief.

Fili let his shoulders lock as he saw the two interact, watching as tears dripped down from Hayden's face in the light from the oil lamp and fire. Perhaps the hobbit had been right earlier when he mentioned Hayden didn't like men; there was a weight the girl carried with her he had yet to place. Suddenly the unbetrothed woman in the hobbit's home seemed to fit, as though she were here in refuge or to start a new life with the help of a friend. Taking a good look for the first time, he noticed the red tinge to her hair, unsure if it was the fire playing tricks on him.

"I let it happen. I couldn't do anything else." Hayden whispered, speaking as though her life depended on it. She briefly wondered if the wizard had put her under some sort of spell to get her to talk but dismissed it when she remembered Bilbo saying their 'spells' were nothing but tricks. Perhaps Gandalf was the unbiased third party she needed to speak to in order to move past her death. "It would seem I was too weak for that life, too vulnerable." She added, wiping a few tears with her thumb.

"Having a soft heart in a cruel world is not weakness; it is courage." Gandalf said, giving Hayden a smile through his eyes.

She smiled at his comment, a muffled laugh escaping her lips. They sat in silence, Hayden returning to her food after a minute of reflection. Gandalf watched her eat, fiddling with a pipe in his pocket. His head swiveled to where Fili stood in the doorway, giving the dwarf a knowing look before standing.

"I'm going to see to my pipe in the other room. Finish enjoying your meal." He said to Hayden. "Join us if you should feel so inclined. You are not unwelcome by these men; do not let their statures or demeanors tell you otherwise." Gandalf finished, pointing his pipe at Hayden and walking out into the hallway.

Suddenly Dwalin stood, thrusting his chair backwards and knocking Fili over. Fili fell, not having expected or seen the sudden movement, smacking his head on the kitchen tile. The company did not see nor hear his cry, instead focusing on the ale Dwalin was replenishing for the millionth time.

Hayden rushed over to Fili, sitting down on her knees as he sat up against the wall.

"Are you okay?" She asked, searching his face for any sign of serious damage. She didn't see any blood but that didn't mean he hadn't hit his head hard enough.

"Aye." Fili coughed out, holding his swirling head with one hand. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to meet hers so informally on the floor. He had embarrassed himself enough for the night.

"You don't look so by the face you're making." Hayden said, a slight chuckle in her tone.

"I'll be all right." Fili answered, letting his head rest against the wall. The spinning was beginning to subside yet the throbbing had not slowed.

"Give me a second." Hayden said, standing quickly and going over to the kitchen sink.

She rummaged around in a drawer, cursing softly to herself before finding what she was in search of. She took a towel and ran it under the cool faucet. It wasn't an ice compress and there wasn't any cold meat left to do the equivalent, so a wet rag would have to do.

Hayden walked back over to Fili, sitting cross legged in front of him. "Here," She said, reaching out and touching his hand with hers.

Fili's eyes jolted open at her touch, not having expected the warmth, and he dropped his hand from his face. She held a wet cloth out to him with earnest eyes. He shook his head, not wanting to appear weak after a simple fall. "I don't need anything." He said, casting his eyes down into his lap.

Not waiting to hear more useless protest, Hayden reached up to his temple and placed the rag on his skin. He winced at first, attempting to hide the pain, but relaxed after a moment or so. The cold fabric soothed his throbbing skin and he let his eyes wander from his lap to the girl's face.

She was a foot or so away from him, her hair in a braid yet a few strands poked out to frame her face. Fili noticed for the first time that she had auburn hair, having expected the red glow from the fire to have played tricks with him before. She was hidden under her cloak when they had first met and when he went to apologize her hair had been wet, dark and elusive.

The glow of the light radiated off of her skin, sweet with perfumes and soaps. She smelled of roses and morning dew, an unexpected yet enticing scent. Her eyes were pale yet shone with a green hue, grey and alluring. Fili noticed the curve of her eyelashes, admiring the ways in which they effortlessly fluttered as she blinked. He preferred seeing her eyes in this way, not a tear nor hardened stare in sight.

"As soon as you're done staring at me, I'd be happy to pour some more cold water on this towel." She said, fighting the urge to blush.

"I can manage that." Fili said, swallowing the surge of embarrassment. He had thought his admiration was more discreet, yet it had been all too obvious. He knew he should have kept his eyes shut.

She wanted to speak with the dwarf with whom she had felt such a connection, yet she didn't expect to be this enthralled with his presence. His eyes were heavy on her, as though their gaze held her with wonder rather than simple sight. She wasn't sure if she was imagining the encounter, but she didn't want to assume too much. She'd make a fool of herself before the night was over if she led him to believe she was as intrigued with him as she was. He could only be observing her, no strings attached. Assuming otherwise could lead to heartache.

Hayden stood with the cloth, holding out her other hand for Fili to take. He looked up at her with a strange expression on his face. He had never been in this position before; usually he was the one assisting women. Not wanting to appear rude, he took her hand and stood, taking note of her skin once more. The brief contact sent chills up his arm and to his heart, seemingly having a ripple affect on the rest of his body.

Hayden smiled, letting go of his hand and walking over to the sink. Fili followed, wanting to see to the rag himself so she could finish eating.

"Please." He said, giving her a half smile as she met his gaze. "Let me. You have supper - I've already had mine." He added.

She handed him the towel, giving him a weak smile in return. She wasn't quite sure how to act around him after their verbal disagreement. He had apologized to her yet she felt she owed him one as well; she had blown up on the stranger with a stubborn head.

Hayden sat back down, returning to her plate as she thought of some way to apologize without making the situation awkward. Just because the blond was in the room did not mean he wanted to converse with her. She realized she didn't even know his name.

Assuming he would leave in a moment, she took a large bite of fish, stuffing her cheeks. Much to her surprise, he sat down in front of her, placing his head in both his hands with the cold towel on his temple once more. His eyes searched the patterns in the wood of the tabletop; Hayden chewed as fast as her jaw would allow.

As if on queue, he looked up at Hayden just as she swallowed the massive glob of fish. She smiled weakly, looking around the table for something to drink. There was no water readily available - she'd have to get some from the well or drink from the sink - but there was an untouched mug of golden ale near the end of the table.

"Is that yours?" Hayden asked, nodding to the mug. She hadn't the faintest idea where it came from.

Fili nodded no, pursing his lips together. He had drank enough for tonight - alcohol would only make his head hurt more.

Hayden reached down the table, grabbing the mug and taking a long drink. She didn't particularly like ale or beer, but if she had to choose between the two she would have chosen ale. It slid down her throat effortlessly, quenching a thirst she didn't know had been lingering.

Fili's eyebrows shot up in surprise, not expecting the woman to drink the ale in such a manner. He was used to seeing dwarven women and tavern maids drink, but he knew this girl to be of a higher class than the typical woman he met inside inns. The human women he had met often talked too much of drinking, chastising it and finding means to argue over the matter. This girl, who he had presumed was a half breed, obviously held no such reservations.

Hayden set the mug down nearly empty and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. It tugged back slightly, exposing her skin once more. She quickly pulled on the tunic, hoping the dwarf hadn't seen her bruises and wouldn't ask more persistent questions on their presence.

Not wanting to draw attention to an already sensitive issue, Fili ignored the bruises. He could ask about them later, when he had become more acquainted with her. In the silence between them, his mind ran in desperation. Was the girl before him the one from his dreams? She had auburn hair and he could infer from her presence in Bilbo's home that she was on the run. If she really was the girl he had searched his life for, the girl he constantly chased, he felt as though he was wasting time. Who knew how much time he'd have with her. He couldn't let another moment pass without speaking; he couldn't let her slip away again.

"Fili." He blurted out, wanting to talk but struggling with an avenue to follow.

Hayden looked up at him, her eyes full of thought. She blinked a few times, having misheard and misunderstood what he said. "I'm sorry, what?" She asked flatly.

"My name is Fili." He said once more, smiling shyly and adjusting his rag.

"Oh." She said, laughing lightly. "I'm Hayden." She answered, looking back down to her plate. Her mind ran in circles, attempting to bring up a topic of conversation yet everything seemed either inappropriate or too personal.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hayden." Fili said, letting his free hand fall into a handshake from across the table.

Hayden looked at his hand before following his arm to meet his gaze. She reached out, shaking it firmly, before going back to messing with the cold potatoes on her plate. "Think of something!" She yelled to herself.

"You know, we already met before. When I nearly tore your head off outside." She said, attempting to make light of their altercation. A tinge of worry hit her in her stomach; perhaps he wouldn't find the memory amusing.

"Yes, I'm quite aware." He responded, laughing quietly. "Think of this as our proper meeting. How we should have met had the night progressed smoothly. Now I know your name."

"You already knew my name." Hayden quipped, giving him a cheeky look.

"I knew of it, yes. But I had not properly introduced myself. Therefore, I did not properly know your name." Fili answered. He scolded himself for his words - what a confusing circle of logic. She would surely take him for a strange dwarf.

"I guess that makes sense." Hayden said, looking down at her plate to hide her red face. "You don't truly know someone until you've introduced yourself. I couldn't very well go around calling you 'blondie' while you called me by my proper name." She said, moving around a few pieces of potato.

"Blondie?" He asked, setting the rag down on the table.

Hayden felt her face become white with the realization of what she had just let slip. He wasn't meant to know she had nicknamed him in her anger and frustration. "Yes, it's a name I gave you without knowing your real name. You know, for your hair." She said, peeking up at him from her plate.

He smiled genuinely, letting his cheeks light up as well. "My hair, yes." He said, taking one of his braids and observing it. "I suppose I am quite blond. I inherited that from my father - most of my family is dark haired."

"Really?" Hayden asked, setting her fork down. She knew she was done eating, having only pushed food around on her plate in her awkward state.

"Yes. My brother Kili is a prime example. His hair is as fair as our mother's and as dark as our uncle's." Fili said.

"Kili...which one is he? Is he burly?" Hayden asked, peaking over Fili's shoulder to look into the dining room. She couldn't see everyone, but she could try to guess if he gave her a hint.

"Kili would be the one you scolded outside your room." Fili said, attempting to make his face as blank as possible to gauge her reaction. If she took the situation seriously, he would not make light of the event. Otherwise, he would seize the opportunity to condemn his brother's ill-attempts at courting.

"Oh." Hayden said, placing both hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wide at the realization that she had not only angered Fili, but possibly his brother as well. She wasn't shaping up to making a good first impression.

Fili nodded, taking her reaction as serious. "I'm sorry for what he said to you. Kili is young, he does not consider how his words will impact others. He also does not know how to treat women."

Hayden nodded her head. "No, I understand completely. I realized that as soon as I put a face to the voice. I did not mean to say such rude things to him in return."

"Believe me, he needs it." Fili said, shaking his head with a frustrated sigh. "Kili has struggled with women as he has come into adulthood. He doesn't listen well, and it would seem he finds himself in questionable and regrettable situations quite often. He needed the lesson as I'm sure he needs many more." Fili finished, looking up at Hayden with a frustrated smile as he set the towel down. "Thank you."

Hayden laughed, realizing the situation was not as hostile as she had expected. The glimmer of relief she had seen on Fili's eyes when she had yelled beforehand had been true - he was glad to have his brother properly scolded. "I'm glad I was able to help." She said, smiling back at him.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Fili folding and unfolding the damp towel in front of him. "Do your parents have auburn hair as well?" He asked, tucking in the corners of the towel to try and make a pattern. The chance that this girl was the one from his dreams still lay heavy on his mind.

"No, just my father." Hayden said. "He had a long beard and long hair, quite similar to Balin and the other man, with the red hair." She said, looking into the dining room at Gloin.

"Gloin." Fili offered.

Hayden nodded. "Gloin. I don't know nearly anyone's names yet." She said, smiling to Fili. "My father had red hair similar to Gloin's. And he had a few braids as well, almost like yours."

"Was your father a dwarf?" Fili asked. He had assumed her father was a human, but he could have been wrong. The description mirrored grooming traits amongst dwarves and he was certain she was half of something.

"No." Hayden said, shaking her head at the ridiculous notion. "He was just a man. A wonderful man."

Fili watched as the girl's eyes searched the ceiling in memory, no doubt of her father. Not wanting to cause any more grief over his loss than he already had, Fili tried to steer the conversation forward.

"And your mother," He began, focusing once again on folding the rag, "what color hair did she have?"

"She had beautiful black hair. It grew nearly to her calves in long streams, almost as black as night." Hayden said with a whimsical tone. "I always loved her hair - she'd create the most wonderful braids as well."

Fili nodded, recognizing the past tense and concluding her mother was departed as well. He thought for a moment, contemplating whether or not her mother could have been human. "And was she a dwarf?" He asked.

"No." Hayden said with a laugh.

"No?" Fili asked, an eyebrow jolting up in surprise. "Was she a hobbit, then?" He inquired further.

"No, she was a woman. A human." Hayden clarified, not being used to defining her race or the races of her parents.

"Was your father a hobbit?" Fili asked eagerly, looking up at Hayden.

"No." She said, pressing her brows together in confusion. "Was yours?" She asked, just as serious in tone.

"Of course not. My father was a dwarf." Fili said with a laugh. "Were both of your parents human?" He asked, leaving the rag alone on the table.

"Yes." Hayden said, suddenly worried that this fact was bothersome to the dwarf in front of her. She looked down at her lap, attempting to ignore the worry that had found its way into her mind.

"I don't mean to pry," Fili began, sensing Hayden's distress at the mention of races, "I only ask because I cannot figure out why you're not the size of a human. You're the size of a very tall hobbit or an average, perhaps shorter, female dwarf. Humans are not as small as you are - I had assumed at least one of your parents was of a smaller race." He finished, searching her eyes for a sign of anger. He did not want to make the same mistake twice.

Hayden nodded, furrowing her brows and looking out the kitchen window. Why was she so small? She assumed it was because she had died and was thrust into this world, being given a new life entirely. She hadn't given much thought to her race and simply figured she remained hobbit height because she had awoken in the Shire, yet she didn't look like a typical hobbit. Did this mean she was a dwarf? How would she know? Her race could have been entirely random per her unusual entrance into Middle-Earth, yet she wasn't sure how to explain this to others. She'd either have to lie about her parents or tell the truth about her origin.

"I'm not sure I can answer that right now." She said, deciding not to tell him the truth but alternatively not to lie. She had already stated neither parent was anything but human, so she couldn't very well say the opposite. She wasn't sure she'd even see this dwarf again after tonight - why should she pour out her life and death stories?

Fili looked at her quizzically, opening his mouth to protest when Nori walked in.

"Fili. Will you help us bring the dishes? We're all finished." He said, setting down a pile of platters and bowls near the sink.

"We'll handle the dishes, lad. Why don't you carry some of the uneaten food back to the pantry?" Bofur said, having walked in behind Nori with serving dishes as well.

Fili stood, giving Hayden a smile while raising his brows in surprise. There was actually food left over which either meant the dwarves hadn't eaten their usual fill or the hobbit had far too much food for his own good; Fili suspected the latter. Fili nodded to Nori and Bofur as he made his way out to the hallway.

"And who might this gorgeous lamb be?" Bofur asked, giving Hayden a brilliant smile that made his mustache perk up.

"My name is Hayden." She said, blushing slightly. His accent was heavy and charming.

Bofur walked over to her at the table, taking her hand and placing a swift kiss on her fingers. "It is a pleasure to meet you, miss. Bofur's me name." He said.

Hayden smiled back at him, relieved that he was so gentlemanly. It wasn't that she expected the worst from these dwarves, she simply assumed the worst from most everyone. Especially those who came into a home uninvited and created a feast for themselves.

"May I help you clean up?" She asked, looking from Bofur to the other dwarf.

"No, we can manage." Nori said, walking over to extend his hand. "I'm Nori." He offered.

"Hayden." She said, shaking his hand briskly.

He smiled briefly, turning back to the sink. Hayden thought he was nice as well, though obviously quieter and more reserved than Bofur. He seemed devotedly engaged in washing the dishes, which Hayden found to be admirable but also odd. Wouldn't he and the rest of the dwarves prefer to converse or relax? Perhaps she was thinking too poorly of the guests, not having expected them to redeem themselves.

Another dwarf walked in from the dining room, looking from Nori to Bofur before nodding to Hayden. He was much hairier than the others, almost drowning in peppery facial hair underneath the disarray on his head. Hayden smiled weakly, wanting to introduce herself to this dwarf as well, before realizing something wasn't quite right. This dwarf had an axe protruding from his forehead.

Hayden gaped openly, watching as the dwarf walked over to Nori with some silverware. He made some gestures, shooing Nori away from the sink with success. Nori simply left the room, searching for more things to be cleaned. Hayden couldn't understand why Nori ignored the axe, as though it belonged in his dear friend's scalp.

"Don't worry yourself over him." Bofur said, looking over to Hayden from his stance on the fireplace. He held a wet platter in his gloved hands as he looked around the mantle and various shelves. "The axe has been lodged in my cousin's head for years." He added.

Hayden simply stared at Bofur, disbelief apparent in her gaze. How could an axe be lodged in his cousin's head and not raise concern? Didn't anyone wish to help him remove it? Could it even be removed without causing serious, or even deathly, damage?

As if reading her mind, Bofur continued. "It doesn't hurt him any longer, merely feels tingly from time to time he tells us. We tried removing it once, just after his clash with the orcs, but it only caused more bleeding. Oin suggested we leave it in until we could find another alternative, yet we never found one." He said, picking up one of Bilbo's doilies and peering at it. The holes were small enough, and he figured they must serve a purpose when scrubbing things; this would be a fine dish rag. "I for one would much rather have Bifur alive under unusual circumstances rather than dead in the ground." He added, pointing the doily at Hayden.

Slowly Hayden let her jaw relax, closing the fly trap that had been open for several minutes. Her mouth felt slightly dry, causing her to take another drink of the ale. The alcohol certainly couldn't hurt and in some way she felt she might need it were the night to become any stranger.

"Can he still function?" Hayden asked through a gulp, curious as to how the dwarf was able to go through life with a heavy, oblong object on top of his head. "The weight alone of that axe must have given him trouble walking."

Bofur nodded a yes, drying the platter and setting it on the kitchen table before picking up another in the sink from Bifur. "Aye he can function, though he has lost use of language skills. He seems to only speak in Khuzdul and communicates with hand gestures, but don't let that fool you. He can still understand three languages." Bofur said with a serious tone.

"Khuzdul?" Hayden asked, mangling the foreign word on her tongue.

"Why it's the language of the dwarves. Surely you know that." Bofur replied with a confused look on his face.

"No, I'm afraid I didn't know that." Hayden answered, quirking her brows up. She knew subconsciously there were other languages in Middle-Earth, yet she didn't think about encountering them. "Is it a difficult language to learn?" She asked.

Bifur turned around from the sink with a soapy rag in hand, dripping on the floor. "Takata! Ansa al aglâb atkât!"

"Yes, yes I know it is secret. You don't have to tell me." Bofur replied, shaking his head with slight annoyance. "I'm afraid that can't be done; it is a secret language on the account that it is sacred to Mahal's children." Bofur finished, giving Hayden a small shrug.

Hayden nodded, eyeing Bifur at the sink who had given her a scolding look moments before. "If it's secret, does that mean he is restricted from talking around others?" Hayden asked, wondering if this was why the dwarf was so silent. "He just spoke in front of me."

"Intermittently so. Around certain company he speaks more often, especially if he doesn't have to fret over someone understanding him. Nearly no one but a dwarf can understand the language, so there's really nothing to worry about. But generally speaking, we try to keep the language hidden and unheard." Bofur said, finishing another platter and grabbing a dish from the sink. "You stated you had no knowledge of Khuzdul, so there was nothing to worry about. You'll find he's a simple dwarf of action and observance rather than of speech."

Dwalin and Oin walked into the kitchen, smiling at Bofur and Hayden before finding their own spots near the table, Oin sitting on Hayden's left and Dwalin opposite by the fireplace. They each had a mug of ale, raising them in unison as if on queue. Oin took a large gulp but Dwalin set his mug down gently on the table, sliding it over toward Hayden.

"I just poured it. Have a drink." Dwalin said with a kind smile.

"Oh, I have mine here." Hayden said, reaching for her almost empty mug.

"You've not but a sip left." Dwalin said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Enough to toast with you." Hayden said cheekily, giving Dwalin a smirk in the process.

"Aye, fair enough." Dwalin said with a shrug, taking his mug back and lifting it in the air. He nodded slightly, signaling for Hayden to do the same.

She lifted her mug, clinking it gently with Dwalin's. She noticed how large his hands were, dwarfing her small fingers with ease as they wrapped around the wood. Still uncomfortable with her new size in this world but choosing to ignore the thought, she pressed the mug to her lips and emptied the contents, letting the remaining liquid fill her belly. Surprisingly, Dwalin did the same with his full mug in less time.

Nori walked back into the kitchen, eyes searching. With so many others at work in the dining room and pantry and Bifur having taken over washing duty, the dwarf felt useless.

"Here ya go." Bofur said, tossing Nori the doily. "I would imagine some of those glasses in on the table are ready for wiping."

"Hey, thanks." Nori said, briefly smiling at the task now at hand. He walked back into the dining room, picking up a blue cup and bringing it back into the kitchen to converse with Bofur while he worked.

Bilbo walked into the kitchen, smiling briefly at Hayden before realizing Nori stood in front of him with a doily balled up in his hands. He reached out, snatching it from Nori's stubby fingers.

"Excuse me, that is a doily," Bilbo growled out, "Not a dish cloth!" He added, shaking the wet doily out as he took it from Nori.

Nori shuffled further into the kitchen, spinning his head around to follow Bilbo. The restless notion found its way back into his mind and he found himself fidgeting with the cup in his hands. Hayden watched the interaction, blaming herself for the misuse of Bilbo's things; she should have said something to Bofur.

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur cried out, having just picked up a mug of ale off the mantle for a drink. Hayden hadn't the slightest idea where it came from.

"It's supposed to look like that - it's crochet." Bilbo explained, shaking his head and attempting to fold the wet piece of fabric.

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is, too," Bofur began, eliciting an eye roll from the hobbit's already weary eyes, "if you've got the balls for it." Bofur added with a childish grin, giving Hayden a wink in the process.

At this Bilbo stormed away from the fireplace, placing the soiled doily on a shelf. Hayden thought for a moment that he must have been so angry his bones would burst through his skin; his clenched fists didn't add to the situation. These dwarves had been too much for her dear friend, yet she found herself giving them a chance.

Hayden clumsily shook her head at Bofur, letting him know his comment was not appropriate but comical all the same. He simply raised his mug to her, taking a long drink as Dwalin and Oin cackled with booming voices.

Despite the apparent chaos unfolding once more in the kitchen, Hayden smiled broadly. Perhaps it was the ale, having taken hold of her body quite quickly, or perhaps it was the atmosphere. The dwarves were overbearing and uncultured to Bilbo's liking, but Hayden found she quite liked them after giving them more of a chance. They lacked the snobbish sophistication she had come to know hobbits by - it left her with a carefree feeling that she hadn't experienced since arriving in Middle-Earth.

Nori set the cup he had been holding on the table, eyeing a string of sausages by the fireplace. Tossing it over his shoulder, he moved to stand by Bifur as he continued washing dishes. His belly was full, but that didn't mean he couldn't eat. Hayden followed the dwarf's movements, sighing in disbelief that the dwarf was thinking of eating again. Her gaze shifted to Bilbo, his head hung low against the wall.

Hayden hadn't paid much attention to Bilbo and his tirade, wanting to enjoy the dwarves' company and the shift in the night's events. She wanted to go to him, stopping herself as she saw Gandalf emerge from the doorway to the dining room. After a moment, Bilbo walked further into the kitchen, waving his hands about and shaking his head enthusiastically as Gandalf followed, towering over everything and everyone in the room. She forced herself to tune out the comments and laughs coming from Dwalin and Oin, attempting to bring her head out of the ale-induced stupor she suspected she was in.

Gandalf and Bilbo stood just in front of the table, close enough for Hayden to hear without her intruding on their conversation. "What are they doing here?" Bilbo asked, looking up at Gandalf. His shoulders hung low, as though all hope had evaporated from his figure.

Just as Hayden shifted her attention, a distraction was underway. Bofur's mouth began to water as he saw the sausages dangling from Nori's grasp. Gripping his mug tighter, he lunged at the sausages, tugging them out of Nori's hands and starting a game of tug-of-war. Hayden chuckled briefly at the sight before remembering the need to hone in on what Bilbo and Gandalf were discussing.

"I don't _want_ to get used to them!" Bilbo said rather loudly, shuffling towards the hall and forcing Gandalf to follow. Hayden moved her body closer, shifting on the bench to try and hear the rest of the conversation.

"Look at the state of my kitchen!" Bilbo exclaimed, stopping just shy of the hallway. "There's mud trod into the carpet," he began, pointing down to the floor to which Gandalf's head followed, "they - they've pillaged the pantry!" Bilbo continued, stepping out into the hall. Gandalf followed still, blocking Bilbo from Hayden's view.

A surge of regret filled Hayden's heart as she sat at the table. Though the night had seemingly turned more in her favor, she was reminded it was most certainly not in Bilbo's. His home was being torn apart and put back together in all the wrong ways, like a puzzle being put together with pieces that looked similar but were the wrong shapes. Her friend had accepted the dwarves' presence in his home but that did not mean he welcomed it. She looked down at the floor, covered in various tracks of mud that found their way into his carpet, just as Bilbo had pointed out. Her eyes found their way to the mug of ale she had emptied; she should have been helping.

Dori walked out of the kitchen, biting into an apple he had snatched from the counter. Dwalin and Oin continued to drink and talk in the corner, welcoming Bofur over from his stance by the fireplace - somehow they all had full mugs once more. Nori had successfully won back his string of sausages, eating them one after the other as he watched Bifur clean. She heard the voices of the other dwarves in the dining room, no doubt enthralled in conversation or snacking. The sight irritated Hayden; Bifur was the only one doing something productive, assuming Fili had abandoned his position in the pantry.

"Excuse me!" Hayden yelled, causing the dwarves in the room to pause in movement and sound. Recalling their negative reaction from her earlier tirade, she decided it would be best to make a friendly request rather than a demand. "Why don't we get this place back to normal. Let's show our host a little more respect - in good faith that he'll share more ale." She said boldly, crossing her arms over her chest. What was it about these dwarves that caused such a strict and assertive attitude to take over her bones?

"The lass is right." Dwalin said after a moment, standing and nodding to Hayden. "There will be plenty of time for leisurely drinks and comradery."

Oin nodded profusely, hearing clearly for the first time all night in the home's silence. "Let's pitch in. The lot of us."

Bofur set his mug on the table, pointing at it. "Aye, let us leave our ales for later. We'll make it a group effort." He said, smiling at Hayden.

Bifur mentioned something in Khuzdul, Hayden wasn't sure what, but motioned he would continue to wash at the sink. Nori laid his few remaining sausages on the kitchen table as well, pulling up his pants and calling into the dining room for Ori to help. Dwalin and Oin stood, walking towards the dining room as well.

Kili and Fili finished putting food away in the pantry, having lost track of where things came from and not having the slightest idea where to put them. Kili emerged after hearing the call for help, walking briskly down toward the kitchen to see what else needed to be done. Fili was left in the pantry, lifting the last burlap sacks of apples and potatoes up onto a shelf.

"Alright lads!" Bofur called out, stepping into the arch of the dining room. "All yer hands need to be movin' and workin.' No stoppin' until every last one of these plates, forks, cups, and platters are cleaned and tucked neatly away. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get back to enjoying one another's company."

"And the ale!" Gloin shouted with a laugh, obviously full to the brim with ale already.

The table chuckled, most everyone sitting down and organizing cups from spoons, bowls from forks, napkins from doilies. Bifur was running out of things to wash; the table was piled up with things to be cleaned.

"Let's get a move on with these dishes. Get 'em to the sink!" Dori said, handing Ori a stack of plates wiped of food but dirty from use.

Upon seeing Bilbo, Ori walked quickly out into the hallway, taking only one plate with him; young Ori wasn't sure where to take them or who to give them to.

" 'Scuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt," Ori began, giving Bilbo a shy smile as he patted his full belly, "but what should I do with my plate?" He asked, wanting to appear grateful to his host but also unsure as to how Bilbo would react. Perhaps he should have just taken the pile to the kitchen.

Bilbo opened his mouth to respond, his brows coming together in what appeared to be confusion. Ori took this as a bad sign, assuming the hobbit did not take his polite interjection well and didn't appreciate the interruption.

Fili walked out of the pantry, taking the plate in Ori's outstretched hand. " 'Ere you go, Ori. Give it to me." He said, giving Bilbo and Ori a smile before swiftly chucking the plate down the hall.

Bilbo watched the plate sail through the air, Gandalf moving out of the way just in time. Bilbo's eyes gorged out of their sockets as his head turned. Any moment now he would hear a crash, having to scramble to pick up the jagged pieces of his mother's beloved dishware.

Surprisingly, one of the dwarves jumped out of the kitchen's archway, grabbing the plate and tucking it underneath his arm. His hair whipped behind him, blurring the smirk on his face. As if in relief, Bilbo let out a sigh; his pottery was safe. At least, it was until a second plate whizzed past his face and flew down the hall, landing once more in the dwarf's awaiting grasp.

"Oh!" Gandalf shouted, amused yet surprised at the dwarves' behavior. He knew they meant no harm, but he could only guess at the rage building in the hobbit's head.

"Excuse me!" Bilbo began, having found his voice. "That's my mother's West Farthing pottery - it's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo shouted, hoping his voice would carry down the hall far enough to cushion a bowl's impact.

Bilbo was at a loss for words, watching helplessly as his dishes began sailing down the hall on a highway suspended in the air. The dwarves seemed to be forming an assembly line, throwing the dishes from the dining room and down the hall before they were thrown into the kitchen to be cleaned. With every release and catch, Bilbo's heart leapt. Nothing had yet to break, but that didn't mean the inevitable wouldn't happen.

Bilbo heard a banging coming from his right-hand side. Not wanting to look way from the hall but suspecting something else destructive was underfoot, he placed his hands up in protest and glanced into the dining room. The dwarves were gathered around the table stacking and wiping soiled plates, platters, and mugs. They had begun stomping, rhythmically clanging pieces of silverware together as they banged on the table's surface.

"And can - can you not do that? You'll blunt them!" Bilbo called out, leaning into Ori who still stood beside him. Ori's face was lit up as he watched his friends and family work in such an organized, jovial manner.

"Oh, do you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur said cheekily.

Bilbo looked from down the hall and back to the dining room, wanting to be everywhere at once. He eyed Hayden emerging from the kitchen into the dining room. Her arms were folded across her chest in a stern manner yet her eyes smiled at the display the dwarves were putting on. Surely his friend wasn't behind this, but she didn't appear to oppose the madness either.

Their eyes locked, Bilbo searching for some indication of agreement that the scene in front of them was too much. She smiled, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head as though the mishandling of his plates were of no concern.

"Hayden, you -" Bilbo began, taking a step towards her.

The dwarf at the receiving end of the hall began singing, interrupting Bilbo's attempt to talk with Hayden. "Blunt the knives, bend the forks..."

Bilbo couldn't believe it - not only were his things being thrown around in a game, this dwarf was going to make a song of it as well, mocking him in the process.

"Smash the bottles and burn the corks..." The dwarf in front of Bilbo continued. Seeing as this blond dwarf was the one throwing things, Bilbo could only pray there was no smashing or burning intended on his part.

As if they had sung this song before, the crowd in the dining room chimed in as well, pounding on the table. "Chip the glasses and crack the plates..."

Clanging came from the kitchen, joining in on the song. "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

As the cluster of dwarves delved into their song, Hayden tapped her foot while Bilbo found himself backing into a wall, his mouth hanging open at the atrocities occurring before him. Bilbo would never open his door for another dwarf again.

"Cut the cloth, tread on the fat

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll!"

Gandalf lent a hand as well, carrying dishes from the sink to the table while ducking under the low ceiling. When he could no longer assist the dwarves, he simply stood and watched, as though he were supervising the entire ordeal.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" The group shouted in unison, officially indicating they were done with their tasks.

In what appeared to last for hours yet took only a few minutes, the dwarves had cleaned, polished, and stacked every dish and utensil neatly on the kitchen table. Their song had given them a distraction, letting them work fast while enjoying the clean up; it had left Bilbo just shy of a heart attack.

Bilbo ran from the hallway into the kitchen's archway, grabbing Hayden's arm in the process. He felt as though he needed the support in case he found his kitchen in shambles, though he was actually clinging to the one person in his home he knew would be on his side after the night was over.

"E-everything is put back." Bilbo began, looking around from the kitchen to the dining room.

The dwarves laughed, happy with the hobbit's disbelief, and nodded their heads in cheerful acknowledgement. They weren't ungrateful for his stores of food and warm hearth, they simply were too determined to let his banter and protest put a stop to their festivities.

"Dear Bilbo..." Gandalf said, taking a seat at the table and giving the hobbit a knowing smile.

"My kitchen isn't a disaster. The dishes, they're clean and unbroken. My dining room furniture is intact. Grandpa Mungo's chair is still in once piece. The food has been swept from the floor. But my carpet...the mud." Bilbo said with a sharp exhale.

"I'll get that!" Kili shouted, bursting through the crowd of dwarves in search of a rag to clean the mud with. Fili followed, going to the drawer of towels Hayden had gotten into earlier. He ran the towel under the sink, ringing it out and handing it to his brother who stood patiently waiting.

Hayden chuckled, turning to her friend. "Our uninvited guests aren't that bad, after all." She said with a smile, looking from Bilbo to the laughing room of dwarves. They had gathered around the dishes, some with pipes and some with fresh mugs of ale in their hands.

"I wouldn't say that." Bilbo said, the smile of surprise fading from his lips. "My home is still in an unpleasant state."

"Yes, but they appear more harmful than they actually are. You said so yourself - you may as well let them stay. There isn't much more damage they can do." Hayden added, smiling shyly. She knew Bilbo was upset and nothing she could say would change that. Something in the back of her mind reminded her that she hadn't exactly done anything to help him either.

"Yes, yes I said that. But that was before I thought they'd be so rude as to throw my things around the house and mock me in song!" He spat out, eyeing her with anger. "You seemed to rather enjoy that." He added with a resentful tone.

Hayden's heart fell to the floor. She hadn't enjoyed the song for its contents but merely for the manner in which it came about. "I wasn't enjoying the song, Bilbo. I think it was rather rude of them to mock you for the love you have for your home and the things within it." She replied.

"Yet I saw you dancing along." Bilbo stated, shaking his head. "You were enjoying the entire thing."

Hayden looked to the ground, avoiding his gaze. "I was dancing because I enjoyed the melody and I suppose I've had a bit too much ale. I thought the whole scene was so ridiculous it became comical - who cleans dishes like that?" She said with a slight laugh. The affects of the ale were still present, yet she felt herself thinking clearer than she had been.

"I couldn't stand seeing my things being treated in such a manner. Why didn't you step in? It was as though you didn't care." Bilbo said with a shake of his head. His eyes grew sad, looking at his friend with disappointment.

Hayden looked back to the ground, ashamed of her behavior. "I was the one who insisted they do a better job of cleaning, so I guess it's my fault."

"You asked them to do this?" Bilbo scoffed, his brows raising.

Though she hadn't asked the dwarves to throw the dishes or poke at Bilbo through a song, she had asked them to put the home back in better condition. It would seem her friend was angry enough - she didn't feel trying to explain the difference would do her any good. The damage was done; it wouldn't matter now.

"Yes." She replied quietly, sneaking a look at his face.

"Thank you." Bilbo replied, clasping his hand on her other arm. "I couldn't get them to listen to me, but obviously you made some headway." He added, giving her arms a squeeze before letting go. "I apologize for thinking you didn't care. I know you do."

Hayden smiled warmly at him, grateful that her actions hadn't broken their bond. "I wanted to help more, I did." She said, trying to redeem herself more. "I just drank a little too much and my thoughts became blurry and I couldn't focus and -"

"Don't worry, my friend." Bilbo said. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Especially after the day we've both had." He nodded to himself, looking at the piles of dishes once more. "If I spend the rest of the night wound up like this I may not live to see dawn."

"Relax if you can. I think they're done marauding for the night." Hayden said, looking around the room at the dwarves. They had settled into conversation much more reserved than during their feasting; it would seem they were welcoming of a quieter night as well.

Two knocks rang out from the front door, echoing in the hobbit hole's halls. The kitchen fell silent, the dwarves pausing their chuckles and comments to look toward the front of the home.

Hayden glanced at Gandalf, having expected he would know who was at the door. Considering he was the one who had orchestrated the unexpected party, he surely would have known of any other intrusions.

Bilbo took a few steps forward, running his hands through his curly hair. "I hope that's not my neighbor..." He began, glancing back at Hayden with a worried stare.

Gandalf let his pipe fall from his mouth, his tongue wetting his lips in the silence. "No." He said quietly, staring at the front hall while the rest of the room's eyes fell on him. "He is here."

"Who is here?" Hayden asked, crossing her arms. There had been plenty of surprises for the night and she didn't imagine Bilbo could handle any more. At least 'he' implied one person and not another dozen dwarves.

"I bet it's Uncle." Kili said, looking to Fili. "It has to be."

Fili nodded once, glancing at his brother before looking over to Hayden. Though this quest was important, the arrival of someone else indicated that the celebration was over; the quest was officially underway. This meant he didn't have much longer with the red headed girl and somehow this left a feeling of emptiness in his heart.

"Your uncle?" Hayden asked, looking at Kili briefly before locking eyes with the blond. There was something calming about his gaze, as though she needn't be concerned with an arrival of someone else.

"Aye." Balin said, gripping his belt. "That'll be Thorin."


	10. The Last Guest and The Coincidence

As though he had already waited too long, Fili stepped swiftly out into the parlor to greet his uncle. Thorin was not a mean man by any measure, but it was best not to keep him waiting; it was best not to keep the Company waiting after such a long journey.

Kili trailed behind, puffing his chest slightly and absentmindedly smoothing the hair on his brow. He was used to behaving diplomatically, though he didn't quite have the natural flair for it as Fili did. He always felt subpar in appearance or readiness, as though he couldn't consistently look the part of Prince; it seemed Fili carried a regality about him, perhaps due to age or simple difference in behavior. If it were up to Kili, he would have let Bilbo or Gandalf answer the door, waiting in the kitchen or perhaps the hallway for Thorin. Fili, of course, had the common sense of welcoming their King at the threshold.

Hayden looked to Bilbo who stood near the kitchen table, staring blankly at his front door. "Bilbo." She prodded, looking to the group of dwarves now standing from their seats to greet the solitary guest. "Aren't you going to get the door?" She asked.

Bilbo simply nodded slowly, swallowing his nerves and attempting to push down any worry of who stood beyond the door. With a small exhale, he shuffled to the parlor, breaking into a jog to stop Fili from opening the front door. This was his house after all - he would greet the guest no matter how much he already resented doing so.

The rest of the Company followed, their heads bouncing with excitement like a crowd of ducklings crossing water for the first time. Gandalf strode in behind them, leaning on his staff as he ducked between the rafters and low ceiling. The dwarves formed a patient crowd behind Bilbo near the front of the parlor; Fili and Kili stood just to the right of the threshold so they could give their uncle a proper welcome.

Hayden walked into the parlor as well, realizing she couldn't quite see over the crowd. She would much rather have been standing next to Bilbo, but seeing as the room was already stuffed with ale-infused dwarves, she decided to go around through the kitchen and hallway. She had just reared the corner, coming to stand near the coat rack, when Gandalf opened the door. Its hinges squealed, cutting the silence that had filled the small entryway in wait.

A broad and polished man stepped through, clad in furs with metal fasteners and valiant weapons galore. His hair was long, as Hayden had noticed most of the dwarves' were, yet it glistened; a soft yet noticeable comparison between his black locks and the silver glow of the moon. Hayden admired the waviness, carelessly flowing from his head in perfection, and noted that Fili had the same type of hair pulled back into a half updo. This dwarf was different, though; Thorin acted as though he were not a guest in Bilbo's home, but rather, he was some sort of dignitary deserving of special treatment. He had waltzed right inside just as the others had, though it was expected of him given the circumstances. Hayden noticed he somewhat ignored his nephews, not having given them a special greeting as she had expected.

He eyed the surrounding dwarves, quirking up a smile at Gandalf. "Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." Thorin said, sliding the cloak off his shoulders and draping it over his arm. "I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." He added, as though the setback were amusing to him in comparison to how important this evening was.

Bilbo stood, mouth parted slightly, staring at the dwarf that invited himself inside."Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!" Bilbo said with a stomp of his foot. He glanced to Hayden, both in apology that her handiwork had been ruined by some unfortunate mark and in question of the mark's origin.

Hayden quirked her brow in question as well. The door could always be repainted, so she wasn't worried over the matter like Bilbo was. The elements and other unavoidable events would have scratched it at one point or another anyway. What Hayden cared about was the significance of the mark, who had put it there, and why.

As if reading Hayden's mind, Gandalf spoke. "There is a mark; I put it there myself." Shutting the door, Gandalf spun around to face the hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf bellowed out rather quickly, as though he were attempting to change the subject before Bilbo could protest further about the mark.

The dwarves repositioned themselves, forming a proper circle around their host and the wizard. Dwalin stood next to Ori, dwarfing him with his muscular shoulders while Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur moved to stand closer to Hayden, Bofur giving her a small wink.

Fili stepped towards the front door, Kili close behind. Though the arrival of his uncle was significant, Fili found his mind lingering on Hayden. The mannerisms and routine he had strictly followed for most of his life kept him in line, and it was a good thing too, for without it he would most likely be a puddle on the floor, looming over the fact he had found his distant friend. He would give anything to just hold her for a moment, though their present acquaintance hardly allowed for that; she thought of him as just a dwarf among many. At least his current stance allowed for him to glance at her, taming the hunger inside his chest.

Thorin gazed silently around the room, smiling and nodding to his comrades and kinsmen. His eyes danced over Hayden, giving her a polite acknowledgement but not visibly granting her presence much validity. To him, she was simply the hobbit's wife - although she didn't look like a hobbit at all. Her body language told him she was strong and able, cautious yet assertive. Bilbo seemed meekish and homely, something he assumed this red headed woman was certainly not. Most housewives would have stayed focused on housework or children during a gathering such as this yet here she was, listening intently and taking part in a conversation dominated by men. He found no reason to question her presence, only the ability of Mr. Baggins to wed such an inquisitive creature.

"So, this is the Hobbit." Thorin said after a moment, turning to face Bilbo. He crossed his arms, evaluating the smaller being in front of him.

Hayden shifted her eyes to Bilbo in wait, glancing at Fili who stood perfectly in her line of view. For a brief moment she thought she saw the blond smile, just a small twitch of the lips, before resuming his focused posture. For one reason or another, the thought of him smiling sent nerves a flutter in her chest, wondering if she were the reason. Glancing at his brother told her nothing - the brunette avoided her gaze completely.

"Tell me, Mr. Baggins," Thorin began, his voice louder than before, "have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo questioned quietly, taken aback at the dwarf's out of place inquiry.

Thorin began circling Bilbo, pacing gently with his heavy boots in the entryway. "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" He pressed further.

Bilbo followed Thorin with his eyes, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know," Bilbo began, sounding confident in his attempt to intimidate, "but I fail to see why that's relevant." He finished, realizing his response had lacked all the masculinity he had hoped for.

Hayden briefly wondered if Conkers was the game little Emlia had wanted to teach her earlier in the market, brushing the thought off in contemplation of why Thorin would ask such a thing upon meeting someone new. Surely she hadn't been asked what her weapon of choice was by any of the other dwarves, so it must not have been some strange custom dwarves had when meeting strangers.

"Thought as much." Thorin said with a smile, looking around to see the others enjoying his humorous inference as well. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin added, turning to see himself further into the house.

The comment threw Bilbo into a state of renunciation. While Hayden took offense to the comment herself, she had to agree with Thorin. Bilbo was not a violent hobbit nor had she ever seen a weapon in his home. She wasn't sure he would even truly know how to use one if he had to; she would have to show him some things with an axe after the dwarves departed.

The Company exited the entryway, looking to find their previous seats in various parts of the home. As though he also was relieved the night was carrying forward, Gandalf leaned against a rafter. His eyes were bright yet tired, watching the dwarves move about. When there was enough room for him to pass, he shuffled by Hayden and down the hallway.

Hayden stepped quickly to her friend, placing a hand on his back. Bilbo looked up to her with sad, impatient eyes. "I should think they'd be more appreciative of someone who's more like a grocer." She offered.

The comment elicited a raise of his eyebrows, but nothing more. Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, closing it quickly when he realized he had nothing to say in return. She was right; if he hadn't kept the food stores the dwarves so carelessly emptied, they'd be a lot hungrier and less merrier than they currently were.

"Besides," Hayden continued, watching the dwarves make their way back into the kitchen, "why would they think you were a burglar anyway? It's obvious they don't know who you are."

"Or they have the wrong hobbit in the wrong house." Bilbo retorted sharply through his teeth. "That Gandalf..." He shook his head with a sigh, giving Hayden a small smile. "I cannot wait for some peace and quiet."

"Me too. At least he's the last of our uninvited guests." She replied, glancing into the parlor to see Thorin with his nephews, hanging behind from the crowd.

The three had clasped arms, gripping each other in a stance that resembled something of tradition. Thorin made a point of looking to each nephew, speaking words Hayden could neither hear nor decipher, before gently pressing his forehead to theirs. The small moment touched Hayden in an unexpected way, coming and going with the blink of an eye as the three walked to meet the Company.

Thorin puzzled Hayden; he looked very much like some of the other dwarves yet he carried a different weight with him, one she hadn't noticed with anyone in Middle-Earth. There was something altered in his stance and aura that gave off much more of an authoritative presence, one that was too welcoming and arrogant all at once. She could easily see how others might be intimidated - she certainly had been by Dwalin - yet her heart did not leap in fear. Thorin gave off a detached attitude, but Hayden was certain there was a hidden compassion underneath his beard and belt. There must have been a reason he was reluctant to show it.

Bilbo moved into the parlor, flopping down into one of his old armchairs near the unlit fireplace. He sat on a candle, surprisingly avoiding snapping the wax into pieces. He stood, shaking his head and placing the candle on the floor with a grunt.

Hayden stepped into the room, smiling at the disheveled appearance of her friend. The day had already been so long and full, yet it seemed like ages ago when the sun had risen. Her sore muscles ached as though in memory of her laborious task just hours ago. "You look tired. As soon as we can, we should get some rest." She said, placing her hands on her hips.

Bilbo nodded silently, staring blankly at the portraits of his parents that sat upon the mantle. If only his parents were alive, what they would have said about the events of the evening. His father would have been livid, running rampant through the hobbit hole in an attempt to rid it of every single dwarf; his mother would have been sitting with them, drinking ale and questioning them about their travels in Middle-Earth. In some way, Hayden had done just that, giving the dwarves more of a chance than they deserved and wanting to know more about them and where they came from. This small resemblance warmed Bilbo's heart.

A loud noise echoed through the home, coming from somewhere near the pantry. "Look at this!" A higher-pitched voice yelled with excitement.

Obviously someone had found an object to analyze and admire - to Bilbo this was an object to be broken or misused. Bilbo jumped up from the armchair, sitting on the very edge of the seat with wide eyes.

"I'll get it." Hayden said, holding up a hand as if to push the air between her and Bilbo to keep him seated.

Bilbo sat back into the chair, holding his forehead in his hands. What would he have done without Hayden? What he wouldn't give for a nice cup of tea, the sound of crickets trailing in from his window, a book in his lap, and his friend by his side. Life had grown so easy, so impeccable since Hayden had arrived. By this time tomorrow, they could look back and rejoice at the absence of unwelcome guests. " _It can't get any worse_." He thought to himself. " _This can't get any worse_."

Feeling as though sitting would do him no good, Bilbo stood and meandered into the kitchen. If he didn't at least try to keep an eye on these dwarves, who knows what they could get into next. And with the last member of their group having arrived, Bilbo expected them to be on their way soon.

* * *

Thorin sat down at the head of the dining room table, a gentle smile on his lips. "If you don't mind, I should like to have supper as well. Is there anything left?" He asked the room now full with dwarves.

"There are plenty of apples and potatoes left." Fili said, moving to get the burlap sack he had just put away in the pantry a short while ago.

"I'll get them!" Kili shouted, jogging into the pantry.

Fili shook his head, knowing Kili had gone into a redemptive state with their uncle's presence. Kili never needed to win Thorin's approval or admiration, yet he constantly sought it in any way he could. Retrieving apples from the pantry was evidently one of those ways.

"There's some sausages in the kitchen!" Dori said, his voice quiet but strong.

"No, I ate those." Nori said back, shaking his head.

"There's quite a bit of cheese left." Gloin offered, looking up to a shelf where Bombur had placed the other cheese wheels.

"We left another ham hock and a few chicken breasts. With the potatoes and sparse vegetables left over, I can cook you something real slow and nice." Bombur said, nodding with enthusiasm.

"There is no need for a feast in my honor." Thorin said to Bombur with a chuckle. "Something small will suffice."

Bilbo shuffled in from the kitchen, pushing past Nori and Dori. "I can make you something quick if you'd like. I believe I have enough food left for a proper soup." He said confidently.

Though Thorin had been rude upon entering Bilbo's hobbit hole, he at least had the decency to not only ask for food but to expect nothing elaborate. Bilbo had tried to be a good host all night; stopping now would go against his upbringing. Besides, the sooner he fed him, the sooner they could be on their ways.

"That sounds wonderful." Thorin said, nodding to the hobbit.

"I'll get you some ale!" Bofur said cheerfully, walking off with his own full mug. He intended to drink the contents before reaching the barrel, conveniently finding the need to replenish his mug just in time.

"We all have awaited this day and the fortunes our efforts will bring. And you have anticipated news regarding my meeting with the other kingdoms. Give me a moments rest. Then we will talk." Thorin said to the room. His eyes were serious, matching his demeanor, yet there was a tiredness that lingered as well.

The dwarves nodded, Balin, Bifur, Dwalin, and Dori sitting down at the table with Thorin. The rest of the Company meandered about, snacking on food and comparing travel stories until Thorin's dinner was ready. Bombur even lingered in the kitchen with hopes of assisting Bilbo; Bilbo would politely swat him off before asking his opinion on slicing techniques and seasoning recommendations.

Fili sat own on Thorin's left side, nodding politely and cupping his mug of ale. He had grown used to treating his uncle as a diplomat, a dwarf of nobility and status rather than a family figure. Thorin was and always would be a father to Fili, but he had learned that his position as a Durin Prince came with certain behavioral expectations that meant most of his conduct was to be professional rather than personal. Fili adhered strictly to these rules, trying not to overstep the boundary between uncle and King, nephew and Prince, though Thorin would often remind him to soften his approach. Fili took the position very seriously, almost too seriously at times, not wanting to fail Kili, his mother Dis, Thorin, or most importantly, his departed father and their family honor.

Bofur brought a mug of ale over to Thorin, touching the tip of his hat as he walked away. Conveniently, he had drunk the contents of his own mug on the return trip to the dining room; he would have to go back for more ale a second time.

Fili looked blankly at the wall, recalling the dream he had tucked away since leaving the inn the morning prior. The dream had remained the same for so long, the girl aging in life as he did. Nothing had ever been out of place or altered in the slightest, yet he had dreamt of the forest blanketed in red flowers. He had almost been able to touch her, to find the answers he had sought for so long. Would he dream of her again? Would he ever see her again?

"Fili. How were your travels?" Thorin asked, his brows pulled together in interest of his nephew's trek to the Shire.

Fili simply stared on, his mind racing. Hayden's presence was all too coincidental with his changing dream. It seemed every chance he had taken at speaking with a red haired girl had been for nothing; not once had he come close to finding her. No matter how hard he searched, how determined his heart was, he never could quite quench the thirst for answers. He had lost hope, not expecting his personal quest would ever be fulfilled. Yet here, in this hobbit's home, was a girl who had red hair. Here was a girl whom he had not sought out, but rather, who had crossed his path. As unrealistic and outlandish as the notion seemed to Fili, his soul felt as though it knew her; he had never experienced a connection so raw and true but he knew it existed when he looked in her eyes. Was Hayden the key? Could she be the girl for whom he had endlessly combed Eriador's forests, hills, and towns?

"Fili." Thorin said, sincere but hushed in tone.

"Yes?" Fili replied after a moment. He moved his gaze from the space on the wall to his uncle's hovering eyes.

"What troubles you?" Thorin asked kindly, leaning into the table to his nephew.

"It is nothing." Fili replied, shaking his head and letting a small smile grow on his lips. He traced patterns in the wood with his eyes.

Kili walked up behind Fili, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. He took a bite of an apple, speaking with his mouth dripping with juice. "Oh it is certainly _not_ nothing." He said with a dramatic sigh, jumping out of the way before Fili could swat his hand.

"What has happened? Your mother, is she -" Thorin began.

"Mother is just fine aside from the heartbreak she seems to have adopted in our absence." Fili said, looking back at Kili who had a childish grin on his face. "Sit down." He demanded with impatience.

Kili did as he was told, walking to the other side of the table so he stood across from Fili. He sat down with a thump, swinging his booted feet lazily under the table before taking a massive bite from the apple in his hand. "Mother barely let us leave. She said it was too dangerous, too long of a journey for us." Kili said with apple-filled cheeks.

"Aye. She tells me the same thing when I leave." Thorin said with a chuckle. He took a long drink of ale as he looked between his two nephews. "If your mother is not the issue, then what is? I know you, Fili. And I know when your mind is plagued with an uninvited weight." Thorin said, setting his mug down on the table.

"I am fine, I assure you. Just tired is all - and eager to be on our way." Fili said.

His eyes darted to Kili in a silent request for him to keep his mouth shut. Kili may not have known he was thinking of Hayden but he may have brought up the dream girl's reappearance. Regardless, Fili did not want either subject to be brought up, even if they could somehow be the same thing.

"It's a pity you missed the feast, Uncle. I've never seen a hobbit hoard such stores as the one we found in the pantry. I didn't suspect a home could hold so much food." Fili said with a forced laugh.

"Kili, what is your brother hiding from me?" Thorin asked, ignoring Fili's plea for a change of subject.

"I'm not hiding anything." Fili blurt out, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips in the process.

Dwalin looked down the table at Fili's outburst, silently watching the interaction. He enjoyed seeing Thorin act as an uncle rather than a noble dwarf; the family persona suited him, though it seldom came into view.

Kili swallowed the mush of apple and bit his lip, staring straight across at his brother before looking to Thorin. "He's not hiding anything, Uncle." He said flatly.

Thorin narrowed his eyes, looking to Fili and then back to Kili. "No?" He asked with suspicion.

"No." Kili said, shaking his head. "At least, not something you don't already know."

Thorin let his mouth hang open in contemplation, his mind searching for some problem he had knowledge of. He looked to Fili, who glared at Kili before avoiding Thorin's gaze, fidgeting in his seat. Kili simply held back a grin, failing deliberately.

After a moment, Kili spoke. "It's that girl again." He said with a smirk.

Fili kicked under the table, aimlessly searching for his brother's stubby legs. "Kili!" He whispered sharply.

"Come now, Fili. None of this nonsense again." Thorin said with a laugh.

Thorin had tried indulging Fili's dream fantasy before, coming to realize the dwarfling had been as serious as he was about fulfilling his claim to the line of Durin. The habitual searches for a red headed girl had appeared to die down, having never truly interfered with Fili's noble duties. Still, Thorin thought it an unnatural and unwarranted obsession.

"It's different this time, Uncle." Fili said, shaking his head urgently. "I think I may have found her. Or I'm about to."

"What?" Kili blurt out.

"Are you certain?" Thorin asked, looking at Fili with a critical expression. "How can this be?"

"Aye." Fili said with a nod. "I dreamt of her the night before last. The dream was different, different than any dream I've had in my eighty odd years of searching." He lifted his hands up slightly, slicing through the air in his sincerity.

Thorin blinked, wanting his nephew to ignore the dreams and the girl but interested in the possibility that it may have been real all the while. "Different how?" Thorin asked with a sigh. The occurrence was obviously important enough for Fili to to harbor emotions over the matter.

Fili looked to his brother, leaning in over the table. "Kili. Do you remember the bruises I mentioned, how I thought the girl was in trouble?"

Kili nodded, his brows coming together.

"Hayden has those bruises. Faint on her wrists, but still present. They extend up her arms." He said, watching as Kili's face changed with the information.

"How do you know this?" Kili asked.

"I overheard her speaking with Gandalf about them. Then I took a look for myself and saw their marks upon her skin." Fili responded confidently.

Kili nodded in acceptance, squinting as he continued in thought. "But her hair -" Kili began.

"Is red." Fili finished, a small smile growing on his face. "You would have seen for yourself if you hadn't avoided her moments ago. It had been wet when we spoke at her door earlier. I noticed it was auburn before cleaning up; we shared some conversation in the kitchen while the rest of the Company ate."

Kili chuckled and winked, eliciting an eye roll from Fili. Just as he went to make a saucy comment, Kili was cut off. "The dream girl had bruises; That's the difference?" Thorin asked. Though he couldn't recall Fili speaking of a change in any aspect of the dream, this hardly seemed relevant enough to deem Hayden as the elusive dream girl.

"No, there were also strange bushes, weren't there?" Kili asked, looking at Fili for the answer.

"They were flowers." Fili clarified. "The forest was covered in glowing flowers for miles. It was a flower of the truest red I've ever seen." Fili said, biting his lip in thought.

"You're basing the encounter you've had with this hobbit's wife off of bruises and glowing flowers?" Thorin questioned, his mouth quirked up in a slight smile. "It is wise to assume the hobbit will not approve of someone taking interest in his wife."

"She's not his wife." Kili cut in. "Balin, Dwalin, and I discussed it. It sounds as though she is just a friend staying here temporarily or permanently - we aren't sure."

Thorin wrinkled his nose at this, attempting to understand how a woman could live with a man without the romantic implications. "Are they to be wed?" He asked.

Kili simply shrugged enthusiastically. "From the looks of the situation, no. I'm guessing she found herself in an unpleasant situation and needed a place to seek shelter. At least, that's what Dwalin suggested."

FIli nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Perhaps that is why she is always running in my dream. She's trying to escape someone or something and Mahal has brought her here, destined to cross my path." The words that left Fili's mouth seemed foolish even to him, but he couldn't help the inescapable feeling that some things about Hayden felt right.

Thorin let out a dry laugh. "Honestly Fili, there has to be an end to this incessant dreaming. It's all in your head." He offered, sitting back and straightening his torso.

"No, you don't understand." Fili protested, scooting closer to his uncle. "Can you recall the dreams - how I'm constantly on the move, forever chasing her and the streams of red hair? We never speak, never touch, never stop moving." Fili paused, slapping a palm gently on the table.

Thorin nodded, attempting to replace the serious expression on his face. "I recall."

Taking this as permission to proceed, Fili continued. "In this dream, we stopped. We nearly touched. I had picked up a flower, a foreign red one, to offer her. In doing so, I almost touched her. She was as close to me as you are now yet I could not see her face. It was as though a cloud hung between us, a veil of obscuring mist. I could see her hands as clearly as I see the morning sky, just as I always can, but she was covered in bruises. The dream has never allowed me to get that close to her without ripping us away from one another nor has it ever let me stop and approach her. In fact, she approached me to take the flower." He finished. His eyes were pleading, as though his uncle's acceptance of the dream were a matter of life and death.

Thorin nodded, contemplating the differences in the dream. It had remained unwavering and unchanging through all of Fili's encounters - what had altered it and why? He couldn't deny the sense of urgency Fili gave off; the dream had only given him more questions to ponder.

"Just before she reached me," Fili continued, quieter in tone, "her hands fell through my chest. I was so certain she would fall into me, an impact I was more than willing to accept. But she evaporated into the sun's light. Like early mountain mist retreating back to the clouds."

Fili's eyes landed on Hayden in the hallway. She was standing with Ori, examining a piece of partially carved wood on a side table. Ori seemed enthralled with Hayden, looking at her with happy eyes that beamed with questions. Fili knew that feeling, having found the red headed woman infectious as well.

Thorin followed Fili's gaze, turning his head to see the girl in the hall. This girl had red hair, just as Fili had said; her wrists showed signs of bruising as well, though mostly healed. Whether a coincidence or a sign, he couldn't be sure. As far as Thorin was concerned, it was an unwelcome occurrence at the present moment.

"Rid your mind of such thoughts. This dream woman you've been seeking has tormented you; you have neither found nor heard of any such person existing matching her description. Nor has there been word of a woman looking for you. This friend of the hobbit's may have bruises and auburn hair, but you cannot be certain if she is the one you know from your sleep." At this Thorin held up a finger to Fili, who looked as though he might leap from the table in protest.

"If this girl truly is the one you've dreamt of, leave her be - you now know where she resides. Complete our quest, our duty to reclaim our home for our people. When we are victorious and stand within the marble halls of our forefathers, you can return for her once more. Surely you have waited enough long to find her; now she can wait for you until our homeland is reclaimed."

Despite all the logic and reason from his uncle's point, Fili simply couldn't settle. As if bursting with anxious impatience, Fili shifted his body towards Thorin. "She can come with us." Fili said, opening his mouth without letting his mind process the words.

Thorin shook his head violently. "I will allow no such thing."

Fili placed both hands on the table, leaning in so his words were projected towards Thorin and Thorin only. "I know it's absurd, but she may serve a purpose in the Company." Fili said, his eyes pleading. Why hadn't he thought of this before? "If she is the one, I cannot leave her. Fate may have crossed our paths for some purpose and I am not willing to leave the future in fate's hands again." The conviction in Fili's voice struck Thorin in a way he did not expect; Fili was rarely this passionate about anything. "Give her a chance." Fili added, like a child asking for something he knew he shouldn't have.

Thorin's face grew red, the small vein protruding from his forehead. "No." He bellowed out, taking a quick sip of ale before smacking the mug on the table a little too powerfully.

"Hayden may be owed more credit than expected." Gandalf said. He emerged behind Fili in the archway to the kitchen, leaning on his staff with a smile in his eyes.

"And why would that be?" Thorin asked with a smirk.

"Because she is of honorary blood. A type of noble blood, if I may be so bold as to say." Gandalf said. He searched in his robe for his pipe, humming to himself as he did.

Dwalin, Balin, Dori, and Bifur looked to one another, silently shifting their eyes to the tall man. They had tried to ignore the discussion of Fili's dream and were debating whether or not a specific axe design would be more efficient than another. Their conversation was not nearly as intriguing as the one Gandalf was holding with the Durin trio.

"Who is she descended from?" Kili asked, turning in his chair to look flush upon the wizard.

"Telchara." Fili said to himself, though the table had grown quiet enough for his words to amplify in the small dining room. The surname had stuck out like a sore thumb and Fili had yet to figure out why. He looked out into the hall, realizing Hayden had disappeared.

Gandalf nodded to Fili, having already expected the blond dwarf to notice the surname before the others. "Her surname has been altered through a means I'm not sure I understand, but the validity of it still stands. She is related to the great dwarven smith Telchar." Gandalf said boldly, putting the lit pipe to his mouth and watching the faces of the dwarves freeze in expression.

After a moment, Dwalin spoke up. "Telchar was not of nobility nor did he have a surviving bloodline."

"No, he may not have been noble, but he was legendary. Tell me of a dwarf who does not know of the forging of Narsil, the sword that cut the One Ring from the very hand of Sauron himself. Or of the Dragon-helm of Dor-lomin that was given to Lord Azaghal and bore enchantments that struck terror in the hearts of enemies who looked upon it." Gandalf retorted. He wouldn't let these stubborn dwarves lead themselves blindly on their quest; why would he let them overlook Hayden's potential?

"Aye, legendary he was. There's not a smith nor dwarf alive who has not heard of Telchar's work." Balin said, eliciting a wave of nods from around the table.

"And he did have a surviving child - he had three sons." Gandalf added matter-of-factly.

"His sons died in the First Age. During the Battle of Sudden Flame they perished with our kin underneath the claws and amidst the flames of Glaurung." Thorin spat out, shaking his head at the wizard.

"Two of his sons perished, yes; Gimdin and Gnok of the Firebeard clan. But their third brother, the youngest, lived on. Gilnar Firebeard, not having taken part in the battle against the great worm, married an elven maiden belonging to the Noldor, of Quendian heritage I believe." Gandalf said, nodding to himself with this clarification.

"An elf?" Kili questioned loudly with his nose turned upward. "No dwarf has ever nor ever will fall in love with an elf, let alone marry one!" He continued, looking around the table to see nodding heads of agreement.

"Yes. An elf." Gandalf spat out impatiently. "Learn to open your hearts and you'll find the voice of reason."

"Elves are no friend to us, Gandalf. You know that." Thorin growled, as though the very word 'elf' left a distaste in his mouth.

"They are not your enemy." Gandalf replied, staring Thorin directly in the eyes.

"I am not going to indulge your notions of wizardry to feed my nephew's infatuation. This quest is far too important and the presence of a woman you claim to be of dwarvish descent is not needed. Nor is it of any concern to me." Thorin returned, meeting Gandalf's stare with one just as equally cutting.

Fili had resumed his position staring at the wall. The possibility of Hayden having dwarvish ties seemed to open a realm of new possibilities. His ears burnt with the argument Thorin was hosting regarding the dreams and their validity; Hayden was not an infatuation, she was flesh and blood. If he could burry the humiliation and torment welling up inside his stomach at his uncle's lashing criticism, he could remain collected - as a Prince should.

Having heard the discussion, Nori and Bofur trailed in, moving to sit at the table between Dori and Kili in the empty space. Nearly everyone in the Company knew of Fili's dream girl and the mystery that haunted Fili, yet it was not something they discussed casually or very often. For there to be this much of an uproar over some related matter piqued the interest of nearly every dwarf in the house.

"Besides," Balin interjected, "Telchar never spoke of leaving such a lineage and no dwarf clan has lain claim to such an honor."

"No." Gandalf began with wide eyes. "That is because Telchar did not know his son had lived and carried the line forward. When all others thought him dead, Gilnar left our world with his wife. His daughter has somehow found her way back here through time and space to sit in this very home at this very moment."

"She is Gilnar's daughter, then?" Nori asked.

"But that would make her -" Dori began.

"Telchar's granddaughter." Kili finished, looking from Gandalf to Fili.

Fili stood abruptly from the table, placing a hand over his mouth and walking into the kitchen. If Hayden was Telchar's granddaughter, she would have to be undoubtedly ancient; Telchar lived in the First Age while they now presided in the Third. Knowing this couldn't be true, Fili was left to assume Gandalf was right in his statement that Hayden had found herself lost in time in her journey to their world; perhaps this is why she aged as Fili did, having been partially caught within his time in the Third Age.

The possibility of other worlds existing had always interested Fili, though these concepts held no weight in political discussions and usually ended up staying between friends on the road or when shared over an ale. The proof of other worlds existing seemed unimportant, shadowed by the increasing validity of Hayden being his long lost friend.

If Hayden had been lost, did that mean she had been stuck inside the dream, seeking Fili out for help? Or had she been able to come and go as she pleased, explaining why the dreams were sporadic at times and consistent during others? This could be the start of an answer, but that didn't explain how Hayden had appeared in his dream two nights prior while being present in life here as well.

She hadn't known him upon their meeting, indicating that she wasn't able to see him in the dreams either. This, of course, was assuming she had the same dream or remembered their encounters. Perhaps she hadn't known she was trapped inside a dream, floating around in his thoughts and subconsciousness in the dark. Had she visited others in her voyage between worlds; were there others looking for her?

Her stature and race had puzzled Fili, yet the possibility of her having a dwarvish father and an elvish mother would explain why she held more human-like features while harboring the stature of a smaller race. Why she would think of her parents as human Fili couldn't be sure, but this was a small detail he assumed could be cleared up quickly. Both her parents had worn intricate braids, traits characteristic of both dwarves and elves. This also explained why she had insisted her father taught her well with an axe; her father had undoubtedly been skilled with ancient techniques in comparison to those Fili knew.

As impractical as everything appeared on the surface, it all seemed plausible. Every piece of information, every connection seemed to fit perfectly no matter which way Fili examined it; Hayden was adding up to be the girl he had been searching for. If she wasn't, he had half a mind to pretend she was just so he could end the never-ending search.

Bilbo looked up to the blond dwarf, smiling briefly before turning to Bombur who stood beside him. "The soup's almost ready." He said. Bilbo turned, nodding his head to a small loaf of bread on a shelf near the window. "Will you cut a slice or two?" He asked Bombur.

Bombur nodded a yes, shuffling over from his position at the table to grab the bread. "Are you well, Fili?" He asked, noticing Fili pacing near the arch with his face in his hands.

Fili whipped his head up, eyes large. He had heard what Bombur said, but found he struggled to find the words to answer. They stared at each other for a moment, Bombur letting his chin fall to his chest in wait.

Fili shook his head, blinking rapidly. "I'm fine, Bombur." He breathed out. "Have you seen Hayden?"

At this, Bilbo's head snapped up. "Who is Hayden?" Bombur asked, finally turning to reach for the bread.

"She's - she's my friend." Bilbo answered, looking back to Bombur and then to Fili. "What is it you need with her?" He asked, pausing his soup stirring.

"I just," Fili began with hesitation, "need to speak with her." He hadn't the slightest idea what to say to her or if he should say anything at all. It was obvious Bilbo and Bombur had missed the conversation in the dining room entirely; it wasn't Fili's job to fill them in on who she could or couldn't be.

"Is this who you are trying to woo?" Bombur asked, giving Fili a knowing smile while chewing on a piece of the bread he had been cutting.

"Woo?!" Bilbo exclaimed, whipping his head around to Bombur and Fili as though it sat on a turn table. "Who is trying to - _no_ _one_ is wooing anyone. No, no, no. Especially not Hayden!" He said sharply. He pointed a finger at both dwarves, shaking it everywhere in the air.

"I am _not_ trying to woo her." Fili said with sincere eyes.

"You better not be." Bilbo said with a nervous huff. "She is not in any place to be toyed with or have her heart trampled on. If I told you what that girl has been through, you wouldn't have the slightest idea how to process the information. She's been putting back the pieces of herself for a while now; let her be." He finished, placing a hand on his hip. These dwarves would not intimidate him, especially when it came to the well being of his friend.

"I swear to you I have no intentions of harming her in any way. She has been through much more than I can ever imagine and I see how strong her hardships have made her. I only wish to speak with her." Fili said placing a hand out in front of him as if to prove his point. "My companions thought wrong of my intentions as well and seem to have taken it as an opportunity to poke fun at me." He said, looking at Bombur with an annoyed stare.

Bombur shifted uncomfortably under Fili's gaze. He may have been older and more experienced than the Prince, but Fili had a natural way of dominating the room if he chose to, demanding an authoritative respect. He was very much like Thorin in this way, though often more reserved.

"How do you know what she has been through?" Bilbo asked, reaching for a bowl to put the soup in.

"We spoke briefly before Uncle arrived. She told me some of what she has endured." Fili said. He knew he was lying to the hobbit, but he didn't want to show interest in Hayden without having a reason. He was certain she was the one from his dreams; this meant she had undoubtedly been through hell and back to get here. Bilbo most likely knew much more about it than anyone else in the home, possibly more than Gandalf.

"Oh." Bilbo said, pausing with the bowl in his hands. "That's, uh, surprising." He added, tilting his head in thought. "For her to have opened up to you either means she's comfortable enough to share her story or perhaps she had too much ale." He set the bowl down on the counter, grabbing the spoon from the pot. "Perhaps a combination of both." He added to himself.

The three stood in silence, Bilbo spooning the soup into the bowl for Thorin. Bombur walked over with a few slices of bread, placing them on a plate and handing it to Bilbo at the fireplace.

"Fili would you let Thorin know his dinner is on its way?" Bombur asked, smiling briefly in an attempt to soften the atmosphere.

Fili nodded, turning to go back into the dining room. He stood next to Gandalf in the arch, realizing the room was still in a heated discussion. Everyone was in an uproar, debating the validity of Gandalf's claims. Thorin sat at the head, shaking his head silently as Kili attempted to persuade their uncle of something. By this time, Oin, Gloin, and Ori had joined in as well so that the entire Company save for Bombur was in the small room.

The conversation came to a halt as soon as Fili came into view. The room looked at him, anticipating his actions as though they either did not want him to hear what they were saying or they expected him to violently interject.

"Your dinner is on its way out." Fili said, looking to Thorin in the silent room. His uncle met his eyes with a threatening stare, indicating that the discussion revolving around Hayden was not open for further development. Fili recognized this as a challenge, one he did not wish to take on with his uncle in this setting.

Fili resolved to push the matter aside for the moment. He needed answers, but he needed to stay on Thorin's good side. This quest was important and had been brewing since before his birth. There would be time after the Company's discussion for him to speak with Hayden. If he had any influence over the issue, she would be allowed to come with them to Erebor; they would have plenty of time to speak then as well.

As if in submission, Fili moved to sit at the opposite end of the table. He moved to the corner, nodding to Oin as he sat down. Kili stood, grabbing Fili's mug having been left in its previous place next to Thorin, and moved to sit with his brother.

"Thank you." Fili let out silently, taking a long drink as the room responded with various grunts and clearing of throats.

Bombur emerged, shuffling behind chairs and sitting next to Fili and Kili in the open seat. Bilbo came out of the kitchen next with a steaming bowl of soup. He placed it in front of Thorin, setting the plate of bread next to him as well.

"It may not be my best but it's hearty all the same." Bilbo said with a tug of his suspenders, looking around at the dwarves at the table. The room was oddly quiet, a staleness hanging in the air.

"This looks delicious." Thorin said, nodding to Bilbo and picking up the spoon to begin eating.

"I hope it is." Bilbo said, backing away and into the hall. He wasn't sure what the dwarves had been discussing, but it obviously left a foul presence. He would see to cleaning up his mess in the kitchen and puttering around the house's other disarrays; he didn't want any part in their argument if there was one. If there was one thing worse than a house full of hungry dwarves, it was a house full of angry ones.

* * *

Hayden sat at the workbench in the back room, head hung low and hands twisting and turning over a piece of wood. Having struck up conversation with a very polite, very cautious dwarf named Ori, she had shown him the piece of wood she had whittled for Bilbo a while back on her first night in Middle-Earth. The dwarf had been ecstatic over the thing, picking it up and yelling out for others to admire it as well. Hayden had left the parlor, responding to the outburst when she had found Ori caressing the wood in his hands; he wanted to know how she managed to make such elegant and detailed carvings and inquired whether or not she could teach him the same technique.

Over the last few weeks, she had put off the thought of making Bilbo a tea kettle perch, either not having confidence in her ability or unsure if she would be able to finish the task. Somehow the conversation with Ori had given her ambition; she knew she could make Bilbo something fantastic if she put her head and heart into it. Hopefully the surprise would be enough to make up for the disastrous night.

And so here she sat, carefully gliding a knife along a piece of cherry wood in the bright light of two oil lamps. Bilbo had left his old perch in the room, the iron base still sturdy and heavy enough for a replacement hook to be placed inside its notch. She had reluctantly taken one of the smaller logs - a rather repulsive looking end piece with quite a few missed swings - and carved it into a desirable shape. She wanted the piece of wood to sprout out of the iron, twisting like a vine and turning into a hook where Bilbo's tea kettles could hang after coming off the fire.

The initial slicing of the log had gone well and fast, Hayden making sloppy cuts to get a rough shape for detailing. She had managed to smooth and develop the curve of the vine and hook and was focusing on ensuring the piece would snap into place in the metal; if she cut too much it would be too small and her efforts would have been wasted.

Twisting and pushing, she snapped the log successfully into the iron base of the perch where it sat snugly. Smiling at this small victory, she quickly set to begin on the details. Surprisingly enough, Bilbo had an array of knives in all shapes and sizes tucked away in his assortment of tools; she found everything she could ever need for whittling within arm's reach.

The wood was soft and rough all at the same time, dancing underneath her fingers as she carved and scraped. Small flowers and leaves began to appear on the vertical part of the perch, intermingling with one another like a tower of vines reaching for the sky; a few bees even found their way into the grain of the wood.

The whittling had let Hayden unwind, relaxing subconsciously rather than physically. The sound of metal on wood became euphoric, a crisp and clean symphony radiating through the small room with each cut. The wood became more aromatic, filling the air with a sweet and earthy note that warmed Hayden to her core. Just feeling the wood against her skin transported her to another place and time, somewhere she could seek solitude and strength underneath looming trees of life. All that mattered was the wood and her dedication to it; nothing else crossed her train of thought.

Before long she had a proper tea kettle perch carved and mounted inside the metal plate. The delicate details were subtle enough to make the piece look elegant without appearing too godly, and Hayden knew Bilbo would appreciate not only the thought but also her work. Quite frankly, she was impressed herself. It was as though the hobby had come back to her with renewed skill.

Kicking off her slippers, she stood, admiring her project from above for a brief moment. Before she finalized the perch, she wanted to test it, making sure no adjustments to relative height were needed. She mentally scolded herself for not having tested the height of the stand earlier; if her work had been for nothing she would surely feel defeated.

She emerged into the hallway, her bare feet gliding across a rug before meeting the much cooler tile. The hall was quiet, murmured voices coming from the dining room. She had assumed the dwarves were busy relaxing after their meal and were discussing whatever their purpose here was with Thorin. She wouldn't get in their way - she merely needed to borrow a tea kettle from the kitchen.

Slipping past the dining room unnoticed, Hayden crept into the kitchen from the side door in the hallway. Bilbo stood at the sink, a rag in one hand and a steaming pot in the other, greeting her with a warm smile.

"May I borrow one of your tea kettles?" Hayden asked after looking around the room and not finding one.

"Of course. What for?" Bilbo asked. He set the pot down in the sink, filling it with soapy water.

"I just wanted to make some tea." Hayden said, realizing if she gave too much away, Bilbo would be onto her.

"Everything's a mess right now. I think I saw one in the corner by the firewood." Bilbo said, gesturing with his head.

She walked to the corner of the kitchen, eyeing one of Bilbo's older copper kettles behind a few logs. Picking it up, she walked fast towards the hall, intent on finishing her gift without distraction or conversation.

"What have you been up to?" Bilbo asked as she neared the doorway.

"Just a moment!" Hayden answered, giving him a flashy smile and going back into the hall. Sticking around for small talk would only delay her more.

She jogged down the hallway, her feet gently slapping against the tile. A few dwarves looked at the girl as she passed by, shrugging off her appearance and again honing in on Thorin's presence. Fili smiled inwardly, seeing the familiar flash of red hair he had grown accustomed to seeing in his dreams. A part of him knew instantaneously she was the same girl - he only had to fit the rest of the pieces together.

Hayden slipped into the spare room, grabbing the perch and sliding it closer to her at the edge of the workbench. She slipped the tea kettle's handle over the curved wood of the perch, letting it hang effortlessly. The perch neither broke nor bent and the kettle itself swung lightly, indicating her measurements had been spot on.

Hayden smiled, biting her lip in excitement. She couldn't wait to see the look on Bilbo's face when he saw his new perch. The gift would be an excellent diversion from the day he had endured. She made a mental note to give the handkerchief to him as well.

Reclaiming the kettle, she set back out into the hallway. To avoid being questioned, she figured making herself a cup of tea would convince Bilbo she had been truthful about the need for the kettle in the first place. She walked into the kitchen, much more calmly than a few moments before, and set to filling the kettle with water. Bilbo stood near the fire, picking pieces of bread and other conglomerates of food off of the mantle.

He glanced back at her, his brows pulled together in question. "I thought you were making tea?" He asked.

"I am." She answered, walking over to Bilbo near the fire to put the kettle over the flames.

Bilbo paused his cleaning. "Then why did you," He began.

"I had forgotten to lock the back door earlier. I just wanted to make sure it was secure before I forgot again." She answered quickly, thinking on her feet. "I don't want any more dwarves coming in uninvited." She added with a laugh.

Bilbo chuckled, going over to the sink to wash out his rag. "I'll take a cup of tea as well, Miss Hayden, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Hayden answered, rubbing her face to hide the victorious smile that had grown; he had no idea what she had been up to. "Did you cook something else?" She asked, curious as to why he was doing dishes when the dwarves had already cleaned up.

"Yes. I made Thorin some soup with what was remaining from the pantry." Bilbo said.

Hayden quirked her mouth up in surprise. "Well that was nice of you." She said, sitting down at the tale to wait for the water to boil.

"Yes, well I couldn't very well have a guest in my home go hungry now, can I?" Bilbo said politely.

"I guess that's true. Now he'll just think of you as a cook more so than a grocer." Hayden said cheekily, laughing to herself as Bilbo turned around to give her a displeased look.

"The sooner he is fed, the sooner they can get on with whatever it is they are doing." He whispered harshly. He turned back to the sink, scrubbing the pot once more, before whipping around to add another comment. "And I would like to think I'm an excellent cook, as it were. Having food to cook with is just a necessity."

Hayden smiled, looking to the fire. Their ability to banter playfully back and forth meant a lot to her. There had been a time weeks ago when she found herself mute, unable and unwilling to make small talk with her small friend. Now here they were, conversing as though they had been friends for years. They were comfortable with one another, welcoming of any and all topics to discuss. For one reason or another, Hayden felt as though she had reached a milestone, taking a moment to mentally acknowledge and appreciate it.

Briefly her thoughts lingered on the blond dwarf, Fili. She had felt a connection with him, somewhat similar to that she held with Bilbo yet it was much deeper for not having known him more than a few hours. She had lost her temper with him and made a new friend all within a matter of an hour or two, expecting the night was going to turn into a disaster but instead enjoying every minute of it. The only disappointment of the evening turned out to be the fact that these dwarves had to leave, that Fili had to leave.

Her heart leapt in comfort, knowing she was able to make friends despite her lack of knowledge of Middle-Earth. It gave her hope, something she hadn't felt regarding her own progression as an individual in her new life. The possibility of leaving Bilbo's home to establish an unsheltered life suddenly came into view.

Within a few moments, the tea kettle was whistling, a high pitched squeal that immediately brought Hayden out of her thoughts. She stood, reaching for an iron rod and towel to grab the kettle out of the fire.

Bilbo scurried over, placing a towel on the table for Hayden to set the scathing pot on. "Be careful! If only I had a perch to set this on." Bilbo said, shaking his head in frustration.

Hayden simply smiled, pushing down the excitement as she set the kettle down. "Yes, that would be nice." She said quietly, grabbing two tea cups and handing them to Bilbo to pour the hot water into.


	11. The Quest and The Offers

"You mentioned you were lost?" Dwalin asked with a smirk. Any opportunity he could get to poke fun at his childhood friend was a welcome one. Besides, the atmosphere needed brightening after talk of Fili and this girl.

Thorin sighed gently, his mouth poking up into a smile. "Yes. I mistook the surname Gandalf had given me. I ended up knocking on the door of a Sackville-Baggins; the woman who met me was not pleasant nor understanding." Thorin said shaking his head. "I just happened to pass this abode, noticing the small mark on the door. Pity I hadn't thought to look for it at the other house." He said with a chuckle, admitting his small mistake.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin questioned boldly, getting to the point. Casual conversation could be held at a later time; this quest needed to become official. "Did they all come?"

Thorin's demeanor changed in an instant, the diplomatic features returning to his face. "Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

The table cheered softly, waiting for more news of their King's trip. Kili nudged Fili with his elbow, gaining a small smile from the blond at his brother's childish excitement. Ori looked around the table with wide eyes in disbelief that he was a part of this honorary quest.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin questioned. He took Thorin's lack of detail as bad news, hoping instead he was simply withholding information to get a better reaction from his Company. "Is Dain with us?" Dwalin asked further. He knew Dain was the one dwarf who would agree to aid in the quest because of his direct family tie to Thorin; his clan would assist the reclaiming of Erebor ten times over.

Thorin stared at his near empty bowl of soup for a moment, finding the words were stuck in his throat. "They will not come."

Half the table let out gasps of disappointment while the other spat out comments of denial. Fili remained silent, letting the weight of the news fill his heart. The sound of disappointed dwarves caught the attention of both Bilbo and Hayden, leaving their half drank cups of tea in the kitchen and peeking into the dining room.

The regret Thorin held in sharing this news was hard to bare, but the thought of possibly having to cease the effort altogether was too much. If this small Company agreed to endure and conquer at his side, he would see it through no matter the cost.

"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Thorin said amidst the commotion. The table shifted in mood, most remaining silently angry while others murmured comments of disbelief and worry to one another.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked, surprised that the gathering of dwarves surrounded something so adventurous.

The dwarves looked at him with expressions of caution; wouldn't their burglar-to-be have known they were meeting on this night to discuss the handling and operations of the reclaiming of Erebor?

As if sensing the dwarves unrest, Gandalf spoke up from his position in the corner of the room. "Bilbo, my dear fellow. Let us have a little more light." He asked, though it was much more of a demand.

Bilbo bit his lip, looking around the room before looking to Hayden for assistance.

"There's some in the hallway. The ones you purchased today. On that stack of books by the jar of old honey." She whispered nervously. Though she had tried to keep her comment unheard, the room fell silent as soon as she had opened her mouth.

Bilbo scurried out into the hallway, shuffling around papers and other cluttered objects in search of the candles. Gandalf nodded to Thorin as he pulled out a small and tattered map from the inside of his jacket. Gandalf smoothed the parchment on the wooden table, his hands leathery and large in comparison to those that rested near.

Hayden craned her neck over Gandalf's shoulder, attempting to see the map for herself. She had never experienced anyone partaking in a quest before and suddenly understood why these dwarves were so merry; they were celebrating the beginning of a mountainous event.

As soon as Fili caught sight of Hayden standing in the arch, his face seemed to flush red and a pulsating beat found its way to the palms of his hands. He shifted in his seat, attempting to swallow the excitement and happiness that was blossoming in his heart. He had hardly ever been nervous around anyone in his life, yet he felt that her very presence in the room were enough to burst the blood flowing through his veins.

Some of the dwarves noticed Fili's change in demeanor, Dwalin in particular smiling inwardly at the attraction it seemed his kinsman could not control. Realizing the girl was interested in the conversation, Dwalin turned in his seat so he and the redhead locked eyes. He motioned his head forward, as if to invite her closer to the table. She smiled nervously, looking around to see some of the other dwarves looking at her as they puffed on their pipes or sipped their mugs. Bofur caught her eye once more, winking and gesturing with a finger for her to come into the room.

Hayden stepped out of the archway just as Bilbo came walking in from the hallway, a lit candle perched on a holder in one hand. His face was full of intrigue, a combination of excitement and mystery all at once.

Gandalf motioned for Bilbo to step forward, to which the hobbit gladly obliged. Lighting the parchment on the table, Gandalf began to speak. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

Most of the dwarves nodded their heads, knowing exactly the mountain Gandalf spoke of. Kili looked to his brother with delight, realizing Fili was glancing at Hayden instead. At this Kili wasn't sure if he should be more happy about the quest or the fact that his brother was so smitten, a vulnerable state he had rarely observed Fili in.

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read aloud. This map appeared to be very old and very important to these dwarves. The hobbit wouldn't let a historical piece of knowledge slip past his eyes unnoticed, especially a map of somewhere in Middle-Earth he had never been and most likely would never visit.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Gloin stated, eliciting a few impatient stares from the other dwarves.

Dori rolled his eyes generously, resting his head in his hands in preparation for Gloin to continue. The matter of their organizing a quest to Erebor had revolved around the tales of returning to the mountain - the Company had been over these portents multiple times at various gatherings. Though important, the topic had already been beaten to death; evidently now it was to be beaten beyond recognition.

While the room's attention focused on Gloin, Bilbo's eyes fluttered towards Gandalf's hands - they had somehow produced a small flame and were in the process of lighting the wizard's pipe. Bilbo wasn't sure if he should be angry the wizard was starting an open flame in his home so carelessly or if he should be alarmed that he had just seen fire ignite from Gandalf's fingertips. Torn between not believing his eyes and throwing a fit, Bilbo paced back into the pantry.

As though completely missing the table's annoyance with the reiteration of the prophecy of Erebor, Oin took the chance to jump into the conversation. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold."

Fili looked to Oin, attempting to keep his face calm as the others murmured for the conversation to move along. To Fili these legends and prophecies had been a staple of his childhood, morphing from imaginative bedtime conversation to historical fact as he grew older. Talking about the matter did not bother the Prince in the slightest, in fact, he found himself slightly annoyed that the Company wished to move things along. This was their heritage - it was the beginning of their new future.

Oin continued, looking around the table as though this story were being told for the first time in a hundred years. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

Bilbo popped up behind Thorin, standing nervously in the hall. "Uhm, what beast?" He asked anxiously.

Hayden had been drawn into the story, wanting to know everything and anything about the dwarves and their culture. She looked up suddenly, noticing her friend's face had grown pale; was there really a beast to worry about or was this just some ancestral story?

Bofur let the pipe fall from his lips, smoke trailing out his nostrils. "Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." The way in which he announced the presence of this beast alarmed Bilbo - it only captivated Hayden tenfold.

"Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals -" Bofur continued, noticing that Bilbo seemed lost in the explanation of Smaug.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo spat out, cutting off Bofur with rapid blinking.

Hayden let out a small gasp, raising her fingers to her lips in confusion. " _They can't be serious. A dragon?_ " She thought. A few chuckles found their way to her ears, coming from some of the dwarves around the table.

"Have you not heard of such a beast?" Thorin asked, leaning in over the table with his eyes fixed on Hayden.

It took Hayden a few moments to realize the dwarf at the head of the table was addressing her. Quickly, she lowered her hand from her mouth, her eyes falling to the floor as well. "I have, it's just..." she began, grasping for the words.

Hayden glanced back up to Thorin, realizing he was sitting patiently, intent on hearing an answer from her. A quick peek around the table told her the others were just as curious as to what she was going to say next.

She swallowed the nerves, ignoring the fact that fifteen pairs of eyes were on her. "I know of them from stories. My father used to tell me them at bedtime or around our fire after dinner. He used to say that his family died battling a dragon, valiant and noble and honest until the end. I used to think his stories were truth, that I was related to honorary fighters and swordsmen; that only filled my head with silly notions and an attitude slightly too arrogant. I used to go off into the wild with an axe larger than I was looking for one I could take on myself." She said.

Some of the dwarves chuckled at this, causing Hayden to realize she had said something funny. She glanced at Fili who wore a smile in his eyes as he watched her, his brother now looking at her for the first time since she had yelled at him. Attempting to hide a sudden blush, she continued on. "But once I grew older I realized his stories were nothing but child's play and nonsense. Dragons aren't flesh and blood." She finished with a smirk.

"Nay, they are more than flesh and blood. They are flesh, blood, fire, and a relentless evil you hope to never witness." Balin said. He stared at Hayden with a hardened face though his eyes were kind.

Hayden looked at Balin in a confused shock. "They can't...they can't be."

She shook her head in disbelief, looking to Bofur for some guidance. She trusted the dwarf with the silly hat more than the others, though she had no true reason to think any of them liars. She found herself wanting to trust Fili just as much, but felt as though this was simply her heart yearning for a possibility of romance; she shook off the thought in favor of taming the flush of pink that had covered her cheeks.

Bofur nodded his head slowly, his mouth quirking up in a knowing smile. "Aye lass. It's true."

Just as quickly as her face had become swollen with blood, it was soon void of all color. Hayden felt as though her knees may give out from beneath her, her breathing becoming sharp and seldom. She had never fainted before, but suddenly she assumed these were the physical indications that came before one passed out.

"Oh look at that, Bofur, you scared the poor thing!" Bombur shouted.

"Me?" Bofur called out down the table at his brother. "Balin informed her the beast was real. I merely confirmed it!"

"Don't you poke blame at me." Balin said to Bofur, seriousness in his tone and expression. "I have no patience nor time for such dramatic exchanges."

Bifur mumbled something to Oin, who looked back to Hayden and then over to Fili. "Lad." He said, holding his ear trumpet up.

Fili looked away from Balin and Bofur, the two now bickering back and forth. Oin simply moved his eyes suggestively towards Hayden, causing Fili to realize she stood in a state of shock. He shot up from his seat, silencing the table with his sudden movement, and placed a reassuring hand on her back.

"The dragon has slept for nearly a hundred years." Fili offered. Hayden simply stared at the floor, eyes growing wider at his comment. "Hayden?" Fili whispered after a moment.

Hayden's eyes shot up at him, piercing his heart with a greenish intensity. She looked as though she had lost a grip on her reality, on her frame of mind. Fili realized the girl was genuinely frightened, truly unaware of the existence of dragons. What sort of world had she come from?

Fili searched her eyes for a moment, looking for something unknown. Her gaze reached down inside him, linking with his soul in a connection he never thought possible. All he knew were her eyes were a saving grace and he preferred when they were shining with life, not dimming with fear.

He felt Hayden relax a bit, easing into his hand as a support. "There's no need to be afraid." Fili said with a small smile.

Wanting to calm the girl as well and prove his ferocity, Ori shot up from the table. "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksie." He said confidently, smiling like a child having proven a sibling wrong.

Half the table shouted in agreement, vowing to take down the beast without so much as a blink of an eye. Ori's brothers Nori and Dori rolled their eyes, frustration blatant on their faces.

"Sit down!" Dori said through his teeth, tugging on Ori's trousers. The last thing they wanted was for their younger brother to embarrass or humiliate them - he was debatably too young for this quest though Fili and Kili were younger and were partaking. Dori prayed that bringing him along was not a mistake.

There was pounding from Thorin's end of the table, most likely from Dwalin trying to bring back everyone's attention to the matter at hand. The Company looked to their King as he slid his empty bowl of soup to the side, clearing his throat as he did so.

Fili recognized the importance of staying on task, not wanting to press Thorin's patience any further over the line. Giving Hayden an apologetic look, he offered her his seat beside Kili and Oin.

She declined, intending on leaning against the wall for support. The existence of dragons was not something she had expected, nor was she prepared for it. She swallowed the information, forcing herself to accept it; she couldn't deny their existence and trying to believe something entirely different than the truth would only paint her a fool. Evidently she lived in a very, very different place.

As though it were natural, Fili let his hand slide up her back, his fingers tracing down her arm as he sat himself. The movement sent chills through her skin, unexpected and fleeting. She wrapped her hands around her arms to try and hide the goosebumps that had popped up.

Balin began to speak, pulling everyone out of their respective frames of mind with a loud and booming voice. "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." He finished, trailing off quietly as though he slightly regretted voicing the offensive remark.

It was as though the room had taken two steps back, coming unraveled in an uproar across the table once more.

"Hey, who are you calling dim?" Bombur shouted, looking to others for an answer.

"Watch it!" Nori exclaimed simultaneously, shaking his head at Balin's rude comment.

"No! Excuse me!" Ori yelled, attempting to be polite but outraged all the same.

Oin turned to Dwalin, sticking his ear trumpet right in the bald dwarf's face. "What did he say?" He asked.

Impatient and tired of the unnecessary arguing, Fili slammed a fist on the table. Kili jumped, not expecting his brother to lose his temper; he seldom saw Fili in that state as well, at least so suddenly. It would seem his brother was full of surprises this evening.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us," Fili began, looking to each and every dwarf with a steady gaze, "to the last dwarf!" He finished, pounding on the table once more. If conversing over tedious topics wasn't getting them anywhere, perhaps a good morale boost would do the trick. Without Dain, they needed every dwarf they could get.

Kili, catching onto his brother's boost of confidence, chimed in. "And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." He finished with an ignorant smile, looking at Gandalf in hopes he would confirm the assumption.

Not expecting the conversation to be driven his way, Gandalf struggled to answer. "Oh, well, now, uh, I - I - I wouldn't say that, I -"

Impatient and thirsty for answers, Dori pressed further. "How many, then?"

Gandalf blinked, thinking of something to say to deter these dwarves from asking things they did not need to know. "Uh, what?" He said awkwardly, putting his pipe in his mouth.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori rephrased, leaning over the table intently. When Gandalf replied with silence, the rage seemed to shoot right through his body and out his mouth. "Go on, give us a number!" Dori shouted, eliciting a wave of shouts from the table as well.

Gandalf coughed on his pipe smoke, waving it away from his face. Surely if he had told the dwarves he had never killed a dragon they would lose faith in him, yet he could not lie to the small men either. They were relying on his guidance and wisdom; falling short of expectations seemed better than forging information.

The table jumped up in argument once more, each dwarf barking and nipping at one another over the number of dragons Gandalf had or hadn't killed. This soon turned into an argument discussing which bloodline had seen more battle and which of those battles involved a dragon or other foul beast.

Kili had joined in on the argument as well, Fili attempting to physically restrain his younger brother but failing. Instead, he sat at the southern end of the table, locking eyes with Thorin who also was fed up with the Company's unrest.

"Shazara!" Thorin exclaimed, standing up with his palms firmly on the table as he silenced the group.

The room fell silent in an instant, the dwarves pausing in their movements and stances at the word of their King. Fili took a long drink of ale, giving his brother an irritated look before motioning for him to sit down. Hayden couldn't recall the last time she had heard a man yell so loud, skipping over the memories of Daniel intentionally. Somehow she felt she was in the wrong as well; she simply watched the dwarves argue without stepping in.

Taking the silence as a sign of submission, Thorin took his opportunity to speak. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for over sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" He finished, raising a fist in the air. His brethren and comrades had nodded in agreement, smiling at the thought of reclaiming their homeland and protecting it from unworthy hands. "Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!" Thorin added, calling his Company to arms.

By this time the dwarves had reclaimed their seats, cheering as they relaxed once more. The atmosphere had been a circus, ricocheting between hostile and hospitable. It was obvious the Company was on edge, wanting nothing more than to seize their home yet afraid that their efforts were falling short.

As though recognizing the need for a reality check, Balin spoke up once more. "You forget, the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." He said, stroking his beard in thought. This was an issue he and Thorin had avoided discussing, sure that an answer would be found somewhere along the way before the quest began. Here they were, on the eve of their departure, without a way inside; the journey would be too long and too hard for such a disappointing end.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf said, giving the old dwarf a twinkling smile.

The table sat in wait, eager to know what Gandalf was talking about. The wizard twirled his fingers elaborately in the air, making a show of what information he was withholding. He reached inside his sleeve, somehow producing an ornately wrought key from thin air. The key was fairly large and heavy, runes carved into every turn of the square handle.

Gandalf held the key out over the table, leaving it for all to see. Thorin looked at the piece of metal in wonder, somehow knowing what it was without truly understanding. "How came you by this?" He asked the wizard.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf answered, turning to the King and handing him the shining key.

As though the table expected something to happen when Thorin touched the key, they all leaned forward in suspense. Thorin took it from Gandalf, gingerly turning it over in his hands. He ran his fingers over the runes, recalling his father talking of a key into the mountain, a hidden route.

"If there is a key, there must be a door." Fili piped up in the silence, voicing what everyone else was assuming. The pure enthrallment of his voice was enough to make Hayden smile.

Hayden stepped forward from the wall, getting a good look at the key in its magnificence. There was something about the way the metal curved, bent, and moved that reminded her of home. The craftsmanship resembled that of her father's in some strange way.

Gandalf took his pipe once more from his mouth, pointing at runes on the map that still lay on the wooden table. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." He said, suggesting that there indeed was a way into the sealed mountain.

"There's another way in!" Kili exclaimed, looking around the table before nudging his brother with his elbow. Fili smiled giddily, returning the nudge slightly.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf retorted with a sigh. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it." He admitted to Thorin, giving him an apologetic look.

Thorin nodded slowly, his mind racing over how the runes were to be deciphered in time. He wasn't quite sure what the runes said, but somehow he knew they must mean something important. The pointing finger seemed to be giving some sort of hint, but he hadn't the slightest idea what it was pointing to. These runes were old and unfamiliar to him; his father could have possibly known what they said.

"I may be able to read them." Hayden said, her voice sounding small in the already cramped dining room.

The table roared with gasps and comments of disbelief, all eyes turning once more to the girl. Even Gandalf found himself surprised, looking to Bilbo who merely shrugged his shoulders in response. Bilbo knew all too well Hayden was full of surprises, not necessarily on purpose. Fili found himself trying to hold back a smile; he knew Hayden was special, even if the others hadn't seen it yet. This also presented him with an argument for Hayden's place in the Company.

"What did you say?" Thorin asked, breathless yet harsh in tone.

Hayden's eyes flickered to Thorin from the map, realization coming over her that she had put herself in a risky position. It was obvious Thorin was not to be misled, and if she couldn't accurately read the runes, she would only give him reason to cast her out of the room, possibly even the home if he so desired - though she didn't think Bilbo would allow that.

"I may be able to read them." Hayden restated after taking a deep breath. "I'm not fluent in - whatever language this is - but some of the runes are very familiar. And I have to admit I don't know why." She took a few steps, closing the distance between herself and Thorin.

"They are a form of ancient Khuzdul. Runes we seldom use in our writings now." Thorin muttered, though more to himself than in response to Hayden's lack of knowledge.

Leaning over Dwalin's shoulder to the table, she pointed to a few runes on the edge of the map, just under the sketch of a pointing hand. "These here, they look just like the symbols my father used to carve into his weapons and woodwork."

Thorin leaned in closer, speaking directly to Hayden. "What do they say?" He asked, all doubt of Hayden's claim seemingly vanishing from the King.

Hayden licked her lips, tilting her head in contemplation. "This one," She said, tapping the map gently with her index finger, "this one I know to mean 'walk'. And this one," She continued, sliding her finger down the parchment and pointing at another rune, "either means 'three' or 'below', I'm not entirely sure."

Thorin's eyes lit up at the possibility that this girl truly was who Gandalf claimed. Though he had no true way of knowing if what Hayden said the runes meant were true or not, he seriously doubted that she would make this up - she had nothing to really gain by doing so.

Thorin stroked his beard for a moment, his mind racing amidst the various scenarios and outcomes that were to take place if the girl came on the journey. She would need protecting, of course, but that was something thirteen dwarves and a wizard were capable of. Surely she would be a distraction for Fili but perhaps fate had brought her into their path so that the journey might be lighter in some way. He could not deny the fact that she was of value to them if she could somehow read an ancient dwarven language.

Hayden took Thorin's silence as anger, assuming he hadn't believed her and was thinking of some way to exclude her from the discussion. "I don't know how accurate I am. Like I said, I don't even understand how I know these runes. It's just something I seem to recall, like a memory transposed from a dream. Seeing the map somehow reawakened that memory - which is something that has been happening to me lately. I seem to dream something only to wake up and find it in life."

Somehow the words that left Hayden's mouth caught Thorin off guard, his face snapping up to meet her gaze. The way she had mentioned dreams being intertwined with memories left an impression; Fili noticed as well, for he froze upon hearing her speak.

Nodding his head with a decision already made, Thorin addressed Hayden with gentle eyes. "You would do my people a great honor if you joined us on our quest." Thorin said, glancing down the table at Fili and back to Hayden.

She looked at Thorin in bewilderment, not expecting the offer. Her ability to somewhat read and recall the runes had surprised her as it had the Company - who was she and who had her father been? Her old world was somehow tied to Middle-Earth, though she had no clue how.

Partaking in such an adventurous task was daunting in the least. Unknown wilderness, a dragon to battle, and answers to seek loomed around her mind. Hayden wasn't sure she would ever see the Shire again - perhaps she would find somewhere else she would like to live. That left Bilbo, her dear friend; she couldn't leave him here and she wouldn't ever consider it. Still, the extended invitation warmed her heart, and she knew she would spend countless hours daydreaming of the journey for years to come.

"Hayden -" Bilbo began, not approving of Thorin's sudden invitation. Hayden had no business leaving the Shire, and with thirteen dwarves no less!

"Thorin," Dwalin interjected over Bilbo, "if the runes cannot be read in their entirety, we are still left with an unfortunate dilemma."

"There are others in Middle-Earth who can read them." Gandalf said, offering another solution. "My intentions were to bring their abilities to light, though Miss Hayden may prove to be useful even if she does not believe it yet." He said, giving Hayden a warm smile.

Hayden's mind loomed around Gandalf's words. Who else could read the runes? Were they like her in some way? Could they give her more answers?

The wizard looked out to the table, addressing the Company. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done." He finished, looking at Thorin who held the final word.

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori piped up, looking down the center of the table at Bilbo.

The others followed, including Hayden, who had recalled the strange association the dwarves had made earlier with Bilbo being a burglar.

"And a good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo said, rocking on his feet. He had assumed Thorin made it clear earlier that there was no burglar in this home; Bilbo felt by steering the conversation towards a better candidate, the dwarves could go bother some other hobbit about burglary and thievery and other unwarranted nonsense.

"And are you?" Oin asked, looking up briefly to Hayden for an answer. She simply stared on, waiting for Bilbo to answer.

Bilbo shook his head, brows furrowed and befuddled. "Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert! Hey hey!" Oin shouted, holding his ear trumpet and turning to the other dwarves in celebration.

Hayden let out a loud cackle, covering her mouth in the process. The table broke out in laughter, both at Oin's misunderstanding and at Hayden's laughing outburst.

Realizing the dwarves still insisted on believing him a thief, Bilbo struggled to find an explanation. "M-Me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life." He said with a sharp nod of his head.

Balin folded his arms across his chest, a small smile still on his face. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material."

Bilbo nodded enthusiastically for a long period of time, making it known that he was not, nor did he intend to be, a burglar.

Frustrated with the apparent setbacks that were being unveiled, Dwalin sighed. "Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

Bilbo nodded at this, agreeing once more that he was not fit for the task they presented; weapons and self defense were most definitely not his forte. He glanced at Hayden, raising his brows as though to indicate she were inadequate as well.

Following the hobbit's eyes, Dwalin glanced briefly over his shoulder at Hayden, wondering how she would fare in the wild. She obviously could wield an axe, though battle techniques were quite different than those used to chop wood. Hayden was pleasant and fairly easy on the eyes, and though it were evident that some of the others somehow felt she could make it to Erebor, Dwalin held some reservations.

Regarding her association with Fili, he could only hope his kinsmen would find happiness, yet this was not the ideal setting nor was it becoming of the Prince to chase after a woman so vigorously. Seeing as Thorin had changed his mind about the girl, Dwalin knew she would most likely be part of the Company. This upset him, not wanting a young woman trailing off into the world where dwarven women seldom went, especially on a journey such as this. He could teach her to fight, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.

As though on a slow incline, the voices around the table rose once more. Nagging and blaming one another for not having found a suitable burglar prior to this meeting, the Company found themselves at a crossroads. Did they truly need a burglar? Could one of them fill in for the job?

"You steal things all the time - why don't you become our burglar?" Gloin shouted down the table to Nori.

Nori held his hands up, an angry expression on his face.

"Yeah! Nori -" Kili shouted, being cut off by slaps on the table and Nori himself.

"I told you, I don't do that anymore!" Nori said furiously. He thought his family and friends had forgiven and forgotten about his disrespectful past.

The table roared with comments like "Just this once!" and "Don't be a coward!", only making the situation more hostile. Hayden stood back near the wall, looking to Bilbo who seemed to be sick of the constant arguing. Gandalf looked relatively lax and unchanged, as though this were the calm before the storm. Hayden had never been more right in her life.

Gandalf stood, rising to his full height despite the low ceiling. A darkness seemed to seep out of him, casting over the table like a cloud of subjugation. Bilbo and Hayden stared wide eyed at the wizard, disbelief painted on their faces at what they were witnessing.

"Enough!" Gandalf shouted, a powerful voice that seemed to reverberate in everyone's bones. The room grew quiet, the dwarves shrinking back down into their seats. Hayden knew she should be afraid, he was a wizard after all, yet she found herself calmed by the fact he was able to take control of the situation. Gandalf was no threat, but he was not to be messed with.

"If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." Gandalf finished, sitting down and dragging back the dark shadow with him.

" _Why on earth do they keep referring to Bilbo as their burglar? Is there something I don't know?_ " Hayden thought with a scowl. She glanced at Bilbo who stood in the hallway, stunned and frozen in place.

Gandalf looked at the dwarves, reprimanding them with his gaze. When he felt they had all cooled and focused back on the task at hand, he spoke once more. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." He drawled out. Some of the dwarves smiled at this, as though Bilbo's lack of thieving was somehow compensated in the fact that he would be a novelty to Smaug.

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this Company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know," Gandalf said in a rush, almost making it impossible for Thorin to protest, "including himself." The wizard added. He glanced to Bilbo who simply stared back in awe, shifting his gaze to Hayden on his left. "My stance regarding Miss Telchara has not wavered either; she is a vital asset should you choose to let her prove her potential. You must trust me on this." Gandalf whispered to Thorin, though Hayden heard every word.

"What do you mean?" Hayden asked, letting her arms fall to her sides in defeat. Somehow the wizard had included her on this adventure without her approval. It seemed Gandalf loved to speak in riddles, never truly saying what he meant but meaning every word he said.

Thorin closed his eyes, regretting the words that were about to escape his lips. "Very well. We will do it your way." He said, turning sharply to Balin. "Balin, give him the contract." Thorin said with a curt nod. "We will need to add a place for Miss Telchara to sign as well."

"No, no, no." Bilbo protested, scurrying up to Thorin and holding his head in his hands.

"Please." Hayden said, looking to Gandalf. He gave her a small wink and turned his attention to the contract being pulled out of Balin's jacket.

Bofur clapped his hands together in front of his face, his eyes shining with ale and joy. "Alright, we're off!" He exclaimed. The others cheered, not caring or taking the time to receive Bilbo or Hayden's opinion.

Fili wasn't sure what to think about the turn of events; his uncle had first rejected Hayden and now was welcoming her with open arms. While he was ecstatic about having her as part of the Company, her response to the invitation had been ill received at best. She didn't appear to be on board with the quest and neither did Bilbo. He couldn't make her sign the contract, nor would he ever dream of such a thing, but suddenly the reality of Hayden remaining in the Shire due to her own wishes set in. He hadn't thought of how she would view the whole event, assuming all would go as he desired. He also hadn't taken into consideration that without knowing she had met Fili in her dreams, she had no true reason to go and all the more to stay.

Finally getting the mass of parchment out and partially opened, Balin addressed Bilbo and Hayden. "Why don't the both of you read this and I'll add the separate signature space after."

Hayden walked over to Bilbo, disbelief washing over her. It was as though they were being sucked into this adventure with no escape, yet something about it felt good. Bilbo took the contract from Balin, not expecting it to be so heavy.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin said casually, as though contracts of this nature were an every day matter to him.

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo asked, his eyebrows soaring as high as his voice.

Hayden gave him a calming look, knowing that facing ones mortality was not always easy for others. She had to address this with her parents, not being prepared for their funerals or the elaborate details that went into such an ordeal. She wasn't sure if the legality of deaths were the same in Middle-Earth, but she had at least learned that it was smart and quite practical to have affairs in order for ones death ahead of time.

"Don't worry over that." Hayden said to Bilbo, attempting to pull him out of the anxiety induced panic she saw him creep into.

Bilbo and Hayden stepped back a few feet into the hallway in order to read the contract, which had fallen open and was now draped over their feet. The writing was quite extensive and ornate, Hayden admiring the penmanship immediately. She would have had a hard time reading it were it not for Bilbo; he had read things of this nature in this complexity before.

"Are we really considering going with them?" Hayden asked Bilbo, though her words fell on Fili's intently eager ears.

Bilbo shrugged. "We may as well read the contract. Even if we don't wish to go. Let's humor them, at least."

Hearing those words opened up a pit of despair inside Fili's stomach. Fili stood abruptly, going into the kitchen to pace in his unrest. His brother followed, stepping into the kitchen lightly.

"Fili." Kili whispered, grabbing a handful of peanuts from a small bowl on a shelf. How there was still food left in the home surprised him, but he paid the detail no mind. "What are you doing?" He asked.

Fili turned, motioning for his brother to come further into the kitchen away from wandering ears. Kili did so, crunching on peanuts and spitting out the shells into his empty hand.

"I've waited so long to touch her, to be with her. I can't let go of her now, not when she's within arms reach and I am certain I will not wake should we reach for one another once more." Fili whispered. Though he was talking with his brother, it almost sounded as though he was speaking to himself. "I can't lose her."

"Why would you lose her?" Kili asked dramatically yet quietly. "She's going on the journey with us. She's part of the Company." He said through a mouthful of nuts. "I could not believe Uncle changed his mind. I tried to convince him earlier, I truly did, and he would not budge on it."

Fili nodded. "I know you did - thank you. But that is not why I am worried."

Kili paused his chewing. "Then why are you?"

Fili half rolled his eyes, trying to tame the frustration welling up inside of him. "She may have been offered a place in our Company but that does not mean she will take it."

Kili resumed chewing, louder than Fili would have liked. "Why wouldn't she go with us?" He asked, as though any other option were idiotic.

Fili sighed roughly. "Because," he began, quite loudly. Nori peeked over Oin into the kitchen to see what was going on, causing Fili to turn his head so his lips could not be read. "Because she hasn't the slightest idea who I am. I mean nothing to her. She has no memory of our meetings nor does she seem to be interested in the reclaiming of a homeland that does not belong to her."

Kili's eyes grew wide, realizing they had been assuming Hayden would jump into the Company willingly. Fortunately, there was a simple fix. "Just tell her." Kili said matter-of-factly. "Tell her who you are, what she is to you."

Fili blinked, thinking the solution outlandish yet incredibly effective if he could pull it off. "I hadn't thought of that. I don't know if that will work, if that will be enough to convince her. If she'll believe me." He admitted, running a hand through his beard and fingering a mustache braid.

Kili scoffed, turning on his heel. "Honestly, I'm always full of these good ideas. You should consult with me more often." He said, spewing chunks of peanut at his brother.

Fili swatted his brother, shooing him forward and motioning for him to continue into the dining room to resume their seats. Perhaps nothing was as lost as he had thought; he had to overcome his fears and approach the situation head on. He only hoped Hayden had the patience to listen and a dreamlike memory to put his words to.

* * *

As soon as Thorin had seen Fili leave, he leaned towards Gandalf, indicating he wished to speak semi-privately with the wizard. "My nephew will try to protect her. I cannot say I will allow it with respect to the duty we have to our people. I cannot guarantee the hobbit's safety either." Thorin whispered.

Gandalf nodded. "Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for either of their fates." Thorin added, as though this were a disclaimer to a contract.

Gandalf pursed his lips. While he didn't expect for Thorin to be held accountable, he certainly was not expecting an unpleasant end for Bilbo or Hayden; he only hoped Thorin wasn't either. "Agreed." The wizard finally said, sitting back upright.

Hayden traced the contract with a finger, moving as Bilbo read aloud. "Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair." Bilbo said, looking to Hayden. "I suppose you would be a fifteenth, or you will split my share?" He asked openly.

She simply shrugged. "We'll have to clarify that."

"Yes." Bilbo nodded before continuing. "Erm," He said, scanning for the spot he left off. "Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations -" He stopped, reading the word five more times to ensure he had read correctly.

"Evisceration..." Hayden continued, pausing herself to let the weight sink in. What would this journey consist of?

"Incineration?" Bilbo asked loudly, probing the dwarves' ears to gather their knowledge.

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur said cheerfully.

"Who will?" Hayden asked. She searched the paragraph of the contract, thinking possibly there was a name of someone who had a tendency to be a bit of a pyromaniac.

"Why the dragon Smaug, no less." Bofur said as he puffed on his pipe.

Bilbo swayed next to Hayden, visibly breathless. "Huh." He said shortly, as though he were either contemplating what Bofur had said or the fact that he felt suddenly ill.

"Bilbo?" Hayden asked, reaching around his back to support him.

"You all right, laddie?" Balin asked.

Bilbo bent over at the waist, clutching his knees. "Uh, yeah..." He said as he sucked in breath. "Feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur said, slightly slurring his words with his thick accent.

Hayden's head shot up, giving Bofur a look of annoyance. How in the world would he have thought the comment would help?

"Air, I - I - I need air." Bilbo managed to spit out.

Hayden patted Bilbo's back, hoping her small gesture of comfort would bring him back to himself.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof!" Bofur said, making an explosive motion with his gloved hands. "You're nothing more than a pile of ash." He finished, leaning on his knee and grinning at the hobbit.

"Bofur." Hayden whispered harshly, attempting to scold him. Somehow she was able to ignore the fact that she was contemplating signing an agreement that voided the dwarves of liability were a dragon to roast her bones to a crisp.

Bilbo took a few deep breaths, standing up straight. Hayden took a step back, hoping her friend wasn't about to lose his dinner.

"Hmmm. Nope." No sooner had Bilbo opened his mouth when he fell to the floor, fainting as though it were a simple decision he had made moments prior.

Hayden crouched down, cradling her friend's head and examining him to ensure he hadn't smacked anything too hard on the ground. Luckily there was a rug in the center of the hall, providing some cushion for his small body.

"Ah, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf said, shaking his head and puffing his pipe.

Hayden sighed heavily at the thick headed dwarves that sat dumbfounded behind her, calling out. "Could I get some help?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth when Fili crouched down beside her to assist with Bilbo. "Kili, come lift." He called, urging his brother to help him lift the hobbit. Kili was there immediately, nodding to Hayden in some sort of sheepish acknowledgment. Fili lifted Bilbo's torso, grabbing underneath his arms so that his curly head fell back against the blond's shoulder; Kili took Bilbo's bare feet and carried his lower end.

Some of the other dwarves trickled into the room, realizing they could not simply leave Bilbo on the floor in the hall but let the young Princes carry the limp hobbit. Thorin stood, picking up the fallen contract and handing it to Balin to make the appropriate revisions for Hayden's position in the Company.

Hayden followed the two brothers to the parlor where they had carried Bilbo and placed him in an armchair. Asking for some peace and quiet from the Company, she had started a fire, hoping the warm hearth would fuel her friend as he rested. Bilbo had come to a few minutes later, asking Hayden for a cup of tea to which she eagerly obliged.

While she sat in wait for the tea, Hayden had pondered going with the dwarves and Gandalf, her heart leaping slightly out of her chest. There was an unavoidable connection she felt with Fili, smiling at the thought of him coming to help her when no other dwarf had. If she were to leave on an expedition to some Lonely Mountain, she was sure Fili would be there, aiding her when she needed assistance and possibly at times when she hadn't expected to need anyone. That sense of selflessness left her feeling desirable and weak, as though the thought of Fili watching over her were enough to paint a permanent smile on her face.

The thought of going off on an adventure with a group of dwarves was intimidating yet for some unexplainable reason she found herself more and more inclined to accept the invitation. Regardless of Bilbo's decision, it was outlandish of her to want to go; she would be better off staying in the Shire. She had no idea what this world was like or how she would handle being on her own, yet something deep inside reassured her she was capable of such a journey. If she could convince Bilbo, perhaps she could convince him that she could go as well.

They now sat together in front of the fireplace, cups of tea in their hands. Bilbo shook his head, murmuring to himself between sips of tea. Hayden could see the anger pouring out of him, as though he were on fire from the inside.

"Bilbo, what has gotten you so worked up?" Hayden asked.

Bilbo drank his entire cup of tea, setting the saucer and cup down on a side table. "I'm," Bilbo began, wringing his hands slightly, "afraid." He finished with a sigh. It pained him to think himself a coward but admitting it out loud stung more.

Hayden let out a small laugh. "Of what, living?" She asked, crossing her arms and furrowing her brows.

"Of course I'm not afraid to live." Bilbo spat out, rolling his eyes as though her sarcasm were lost on him.

"Then let's go out and live. Go explore the world you love so dearly. You told me yourself you've always wanted to go on an adventure despite what other hobbits might think, despite what the world expects of you." Hayden said.

"I can't." Bilbo said shortly, shifting his eyes from Hayden to the fire.

Hayden sighed in frustration. "Why can't you?" She asked after a moment, letting her nerves settle. Her friend was already in a testy mood; there was no need to bother him with her impatience.

Bilbo looked at Hayden, his eyes drenched in worry. "Because I can't lose..." He began, trailing off as though he regretting opening his mouth.

Instinctively, Hayden understood Bilbo's reservations. He didn't want to lose her. Not because he expected to, but because there was a higher risk of danger out in the wild. He wasn't one to abandon others, and the thought of being separated must have unnerved him. Hayden realized she had been taking his friendship and admiration for granted.

Hayden moved to place her saucer down as well, crossing her ankles beneath the seat. "Bilbo, you're my best friend. I don't think I've ever had a friend like you in my life and I don't know if I'll keep another as close to my heart as I do you. You've given me much more than a place to stay and delicious food to eat." Hayden said with a short breath that caught in her throat.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement. "I feel as though you have been a missing part of my existence here in the Shire. Aside from my immediate family that is now long gone, I don't have anyone to confide in or trust. No one to look over, no one to look over me. You changed all of that, rather unexpectedly I must add." He finished with a smile. His eyes shone slightly, as though tears were beginning to form.

Hayden sat for a moment, smiling at her friend and thinking back over the last month. She had endured so much in her twenty-three years back on Earth and had already grown immensely since arriving in Middle-Earth. In a strange turn of events, she had been able to begin healing, releasing the grip Daniel had on her to establish a new way of life that went beyond simply surviving; now she was truly living.

"I never though I'd gain so much from dying." She whispered with a chuckle.

Bilbo breathed out a laugh, dabbing the corners of his eyes in a subtle motion, though he knew Hayden had seen his emotions pouring out. "I can't let something happen to you. Your well-being is too important."

"I appreciate your concern, Bilbo, but I'll be fine. I can hold my own and I promise to see to it that you can as well. I don't want you pausing your own life and missing chances at roaming Middle-Earth because you feel you need to babysit me. This is the sort of thing you've wanted to do your entire life." Hayden said, leaning on her thighs and hoping she could persuade Bilbo to change his mind. "You took a chance on taking me in. Take the chance on the dwarves' offer." She added.

Bilbo stared at Hayden for a moment, contemplating the consequences were he to leave Bag End or stay. Both options were appealing, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave. Slowly he opened his mouth to speak. "Taking a small vacation to another village is one thing, but accompanying thirteen dwarves on a quest that involves a dragon and who knows what else is something else entirely. Not to mention their aggressive, pompous attitudes and their stubborn mindsets; I'd most likely wash my hands of them in a few days time and turn around right back to the Shire." If he couldn't convince Hayden that her well-being was a reason to stay, he would make her see that the trip would be a waste of time.

"I think you're just fishing for reasons not to go. You're just as stubborn as they are, you know." Hayden retorted with a smirk.

Bilbo fidgeted wildly in his chair, sitting up taller and leaning in toward Hayden. "I am _not_ making excuses for my staying home. Hayden," He began, taking a deep breath, "I used to dream of escaping the Shire, of roaming the hills and valleys of Middle-Earth and experiencing life like no other hobbit has. That spark of rebellion and wonder is in my blood." He said, glancing up at the portrait of his mother on the mantle. "But now that you're here, now that you've changed my life and my home, I find myself reluctant to leave it. I'm perfectly content with leaving those dreams as thoughts tucked away for another time down the road. Right now my life is perfect and leaving Bag End seems like a foolish thing to do."

Hayden nodded, understanding that behind the excuses and the absurd worries, Bilbo had a point. As he looked at her, his eyes were sincere, as though his care for her outweighed any once of a lifetime opportunity.

"If your life hadn't changed, you would consider going?" Hayden asked.

"I would heavily consider going were it a month ago or longer." Bilbo said with a nod.

"So if I wasn't here, there would be no issue?" Hayden asked further.

Bilbo scrunched his nose up, squinting at Hayden. "There is no issue with you being here, but I suppose yes. I would be more inclined to leave if you weren't here."

"Okay. So, what if I go with you - we both go?" Hayden asked, her eyes lighting up in excitement. She hadn't been officially offered a title within the Company as Bilbo had, but she had at least been invited. She hadn't really taken the time to contemplate going on such an adventure alone, instead focusing on what her friend was inclined to do and resolving to go together.

"No. Absolutely not. Out of the question." Bilbo answered, shaking his head violently. "Did you not just hear what I am concerned about? It's dangerous out there!" He added.

"Everywhere is dangerous, Bilbo, if you truly take a look at things." Hayden said cynically.

"Yes, when was the last time you saw a marauding group of bandits or a feral rabid beast or a dragon, no less, galavanting down the road and across the bridge?!" He said sarcastically.

"We could experience this world together." Hayden said, ignoring his comment and moving her head so Bilbo were forced to look at her.

"No." He spat out angrily, standing from his chair and moving to the window. "I don't like the thought of you spending time with thirteen grumpy men who have nothing but time in the wilderness on their hands - and I'm surprised that doesn't scare you." He ranted, looking back at Hayden over his shoulder. "It should." He added, almost scolding his friend.

She glanced down at her feet at his outburst. "Surprisingly, it doesn't. I've conversed with most of them and while I'll admit they're a bit brash and rough, they're also very humble." Hayden replied cautiously. She wasn't trying to argue with Bilbo, but she needed to let him see that she was capable of taking on more in her new life. "Plus I would like to think I'm a little more level-headed now than I was when Daniel manipulated me."

Bilbo remained quiet but raised his eyebrows with a slight nod. He knew Hayden had changed - she was certainly not the same woman he had met a month ago. Not once had he thought her ignorant or gullible, but he simply understood her reservations towards men and did not want to see her get hurt a second time around. It seemed the glory of this quest had shadowed any form of doubt or fear she should have been harboring towards this group of dwarves.

"Honestly I had been contemplating whether or not to go, expecting you would go if I convinced you to throw away your concerns. Admitting I wanted to go would have been easier if you had accepted the job, but seeing as you won't budge on your decision, I suppose I have to tell you this way. It's not necessarily something I want to do without you, but it's something I feel I need to do." Hayden said quietly, expecting Bilbo to be upset at her admission. "I can't explain why, but I feel as though this is something I was meant to do. Something inside my soul is telling me to go."

When Bilbo still didn't respond, she continued. "I'm ready for this, Bilbo. This adventure is something new, something bold and uncertain. My old life turned me into a creature in a cage, someone living within the borders of a life governed by someone else. Everything I did, everything I ate, even the way I looked was controlled by Daniel for far too long. Never was I given an opportunity like this when I had the wit to realize it and the will to seek ambition. I don't want to exist like that any more, and I haven't since waking up here and living with you. Everything in my new life here has been so wonderful - I've been given the chance to rebuild myself and to live a life I want to live. So while I still have that chance, I want to go out and live it." She finished, swallowing a stray tear that had tried to escape.

Bilbo listened eagerly, staring at various spots in the room to avoid meeting Hayden's gaze. He looked up to the stars shining high in the sky; they looked back at Bilbo with sad twinkles. He knew she was right, he simply didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to watch her leave, hoping she would return one day all the while leaving him inside his burrow of solitary hobbitish charm.

"I don't know if I can do it alone. I don't want to go without you, but I don't want to deny myself an opportunity to expand my future." Hayden said, hoping she would reassure her friend that she wasn't contemplating forgoing their friendship. "I don't want you to deny yourself anything either."

Bilbo nodded, smiling briefly before swallowing hard. "I know you're ready to take on the world. You've been doing just that since we met." He sighed, walking towards Hayden who still sat patiently in a chair. "While both of us accompanying the dwarves would put my mind at ease concerning your position among thirteen men, this is not something I'm confident I can do. I've never been through anything traumatic like you have, save for the death of my parents. I'm not sure I can push through the hard nights or the uncertain roads." Bilbo said, wringing his hands slightly.

He paused his wringing, looking at Hayden intently. "I don't mean any offense when I say that you're accustomed to hardship whereas I'm not. I don't know if I am physically, mentally, or emotionally capable of completing such a quest. This won't be a leisurely holiday. This is going to be a sought out job with deadlines and demanding efforts that I'm not sure I'm able or willing to put in. I'm not even a burglar!" He added, exasperated in tone.

Hayden smiled weakly, reaching out her hand. Bilbo took it, giving it a light squeeze before sitting down once more in the chair. The two sat in the parlor, eyes roaming the floor and roaring fire while lost in individual thought. As it was, there was much to gain and much to lose on both sides of this coin.

"What are you going to do?" Bilbo asked after a while. The silence had filled the small room in contrast to the deep murmurs and conversations that permeated through his home. Somehow his voice felt small and distant, drowned by the crackling of the fire.

"I don't know. My heart and head are both in agreement and disagreement." Hayden responded honestly. "What are you going to do?" She asked.

Bilbo bit his lip, thinking over his options once more. If he left Bag End without Hayden, he would surely regret it and there was a good chance he would come back home out of guilt. If they both went, he could see misfortunes plaguing them as well as beautiful memories unfolding; a gamble to say the least. If they both stayed in the Shire, would an opportunity like this ever come knocking again? Would he ever build up the courage to go off on his own? Considering Hayden hungered for adventure, he assumed the latter to be a resounding 'yes'.

"I am going to," He began, drawing out his decision as if he were still on the fence, "stay."

Hayden nodded, respecting her friend's decision though heartbroken that she now faced an even tougher one. She could go off by herself but wasn't sure she wanted to. If she did, would Bilbo hate her? Would that mean their friendship would dissolve? If she stayed, would she regret it for the rest of her second life?

"I'm going to sleep on it." Hayden said, eliciting surprised eyes from Bilbo. "I don't know what I want, but I know some sleep and a fresh mind will do me some good."

Bilbo nodded, watching as Hayden stood and moved toward the hallway door in the kitchen. "Hayden." He called, looking over his shoulder.

She turned, pausing near the doorframe with heavy eyes. "I don't want you to think less of me for not going." Bilbo said, pressing his lips together.

"I don't." Hayden replied, giving him a small smile.

"And - and I also want you to know I won't think less of you should you choose to leave in the morning." Bilbo spat out, wanting to get his point across. Her life was in her hands; his respect and care for her would not waiver because she chose to go. He could only pray she wouldn't.

Hayden nodded slowly, her smile growing into a more thoughtful look. "Thank you, Bilbo." She said, eventually meeting his gaze. "Sleep well."

"Good night." Bilbo replied, watching as her shadow shrank down the hallway towards her room.

Just as Hayden walked out, Gandalf waltzed right in from the kitchen. He had a fresh cup of tea, handing it over to Bilbo with a polite nod. Bilbo tried to wipe the annoyed look off of his face; the old man was trying to be apologetic. The tea was a peace offering of sorts.

"That could have been a horrid fall." Gandalf said, commenting on the fainting episode.

"I'll be all right. Let me just sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo answered, taking a small sip of his piping hot tea.

As though a switch was flipped on the wizard, his demeanor changed in an instant. "You've been sitting quietly for far too long." He said angrily. It was obvious he wasn't here to apologize for anything - he was here to talk Bilbo into going with the dwarves.

"Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who was always was running off in search of elves in the woods. Who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing in mud and twigs and fireflies." He looked at Bilbo with a sad expression, as though he had preferred the young, inexperienced hobbit to the one who sat before him. "A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire."

Bilbo gave him an irritable stare. Hayden had tried moments ago to persuade him, though not as directly or impatiently as Gandalf. He wondered briefly if the wizard had heard their conversation, stepping in only now when Hayden had failed.

"The world is not in your books and maps; it's out there." Gandalf added.

The comment hit Bilbo's heartstrings, knowing both the wizard and his friend were right about that. He loved to read about the world, so why wouldn't he go experience it? It was too much for Bilbo and he found he didn't quite have anything to say in response.

"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins," He began, pointing to himself and whimpering slightly, "of Bag End." His reasoning was nothing but an excuse, and Bilbo knew it, but it was all he had.

"You are also a Took." Gandalf said imploringly.

Bilbo flopped back into his chair, his arm hanging lazily over the armrest. The wizard knew exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. He felt like a child being reprimanded by his elders. He glanced up to his parent's portraits over the fire once more. " _What have I done to deserve this?_ " He thought in silent questioning.

"Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse?" Gandalf asked, as though a bit of history would somehow change Bilbo's mind.

"Yes. I did as a matter of fact." Bilbo said shortly.

"Well he could!" Gandalf exclaimed, displeased with Bilbo's attitude. "In the Battle of Green Fields he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time." Gandalf said, smiling as though the story were too perfect.

Bilbo stared at the wizard, skepticism blatant on his features. "I do believe you made that up." He said, not recalling any such story involving his family and the invention of golf before.

"Well," Gandalf started, miffed that his fib had been caught. "Though he was not the true inventor of golf, he did send Golfinbul's head into a rabbit hole; the goblin's name inspired the naming of the sport. But all good stories deserve embellishment, as you should know."

Bilbo nodded, thinking to all the stories he had read. While a lot of them were entirely made up, he had to wonder how much of the real ones - the biographies and memoirs - were forged.

Gandalf pulled the contract out from his robe, placing it across the empty armchair opposite Bilbo. "You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back. You can even write it down, make a book of your own." Gandalf said. If he couldn't persuade the hobbit with his family history perhaps he could use Bilbo's love of literature to his advantage.

"Yes, but," Bilbo began, shifting in his armchair so he looked flush upon Gandalf, "can you promise that I will come back? That Hayden will come back?" He pulled his lips into a tight line, angry at the thought that something might happen to one of them.

"No." Gandalf admitted openly. "And if you do, neither of you will be the same." He added. His voice had dropped to a near whisper, implying the disastrous and life-altering experiences that awaited them on this quest.

"That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf. I can't sign this." Bilbo said as he stood, setting his cup of tea on the side table next to his other empty one. "You've got the wrong Hobbit." He said with downcast eyes, shuffling off towards the front door. He checked to ensure it was properly closed, turning and continuing down the hall to see himself to bed.

Gandalf and the dwarves would have plenty of time to converse and retire themselves, but what they did in between now and the morning, Bilbo could hardly care. This day had been far too long and much too tiring. If he began worrying once more about their presence in his home, he would run himself ragged into next spring.

He grabbed a book off a shelf, not caring which one so long as he had something to read in bed, and went off down the hallway. He stepped in the bathroom, mentally blocking out the dwarvish mess that greeted him. He simply needed to lightly wash his face; a full night routine seemed a tad much in his current state.

Bilbo stumbled out of the bathroom, book in hand, intent on reaching his bedroom quickly and quietly. If anyone approached him in his path, he would bid them a good night and carry on. He noticed Hayden's door was still open, indicating she had not yet gone to bed. He wondered if she planned on staying up with the dwarves or if she were simply getting a cup of water: judging by her tiredness, he assumed the latter.

His feet grew heavy as he approached his bed, sitting down without changing into his pajamas. The structured life he usually led seemed pointless at the moment - he would get just as good of sleep in his day clothes as he would in pajamas considering how exhausted he was. He even left the suspenders where they sat, twisted on his shoulders.

Letting his feet dangle, he cracked open the book, smiling inwardly as he read the title. "A Night of Rain and Towering Trees." What he wouldn't give for the sweet smell of rain and the sound of rustling leaves. He had read this book many times before, yet he always found himself intrigued by the story. It followed an old farmer who had put his grandchild to work on the farm, ignoring the wishes of his daughter who wanted her son to take up blacksmithing after his father. The grandchild and farmer eventually form a unique bond, learning to be patient with one another and with the environment in order to grow as individuals and to grow crops in an efficient, unexpected way.

Seeing as Bilbo knew the story, he soon found his eyelids dancing. Sleep lulled around him, drawing him in like an enticing perfume. Before long he found himself falling over on his side, book tucked under one hand, drifting off into sleep. Briefly he woke, realizing his head wasn't even right side up on his pillow, before letting gravity pull him back into his bed's plush embrace.

* * *

Fili stood at the end of the hall of the east wing with Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin. Reluctantly, he had left Hayden and Bilbo in the parlor to decompress despite the burning desire he had to confess everything to Hayden in order to persuade her into signing the contract. From what could be heard of Bilbo's conversation with Hayden and Gandalf, it was evident that the thought of a harsh journey was too much for the small hobbit, instead deciding to stay home with his fireplace and books.

As Bilbo brushed down the hallway, ignoring all smiles and nods of acknowledgement from members of the Company, Fili, Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin folded their arms across their chests. Though Bilbo was nice enough and most certainly courteous, he was definitely odd.

Balin sighed first, breaking the silence in the small group. "It appears we have lost our burglar."

The others looked at him, realizing that his statement was probably accurate. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us." Balin continued, looking around his backside to find something to sit on. A small wooden stepping stool sat in perfect position, creaking slightly as the old dwarf sat down. "After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers; hardly the stuff of legend." He looked Dwalin and Fili in the eye, shaking his head at Thorin in his defeat.

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin said in encouragement.

"Old warriors." Balin retorted, sighing heavily in emphasis of his age.

"The older warriors are the ones who carry more experience, more knowledge, under their belts." Fili said, looking to Dwalin. "You should know, you're about five hundred now, aren't you?"

Dwalin hit Fili with his shoulder, smiling at the comment as Fili let out a hearty chuckle. Even Balin cracked a smile, somewhat realizing he was being too hard on the Company and their current situation.

"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came." Thorin stated, looking at Balin for guidance. "Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that." He added through his teeth.

Dwalin placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze. It was evident that Thorin struggled with Dain's rejection, having counted on the assistance from a family standpoint if not from a diplomatic one. "Dain is just doing what he thinks is right for his people at the present moment." Dwalin offered. "He will come around. When we retake the kingdom under the mountain, he will stand with us."

Fili nodded eagerly in agreement. "We will establish sufficient trade with the Iron Hills and without struggle. Dain knows our abilities and our loyalty; he will not withhold aid once we have established our claim on the mountain."

Thorin nodded, realizing his friend and nephew were right. Though he didn't want to accept it, he had to. There would be no begging on his end; they were on their own as it were.

Balin agreed as well, though he still shook his head in disagreement. "While our hearts are true in desire, we are merely a small handful of dwarves." He said, expressing the fact they needed an army to take Erebor. "You don't have to do this. You have a choice." Balin said. "You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor." He finished, looking up at his King.

Thorin smiled, recognizing Balin was trying to save him from the perils of the journey. His sister Dis had done the same thing numerous times, resolving never to speak to him again should he not return; Thorin thought it comical, for she would have no choice if he did not return. "I agree with you yet I know that we cannot wait for someone else to steal our honor, our home. Gold cannot put a price on that, only vengeance and determination can."

Balin sighed, knowing Thorin's mind could not be changed despite their significant loss of manpower. He opened his mouth, intent on trying a different approach, when Thorin pulled out the key Gandalf had given him. The key to the hidden passage.

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. I cannot pass this to Fili, who may or may not be able to complete the task. Then it would pass down further and further in the line of Durin, forever waiting for an opportune moment that may never present itself or may never be seized. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me." Thorin said, the conviction in his eyes clear enough for Fili and Dwalin to feel in their souls.

Balin nodded with a smile, recognizing the valiant heart Thorin so frequently guarded. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

Dwalin smacked Fili on the back, giving him a squinting smile. Fili passed the movement onto his uncle, giving him a generous smack on the arm as well. Thorin smiled, embracing the apparent unity his kinsmen seemed to have. He knew this unity ran through every single dwarf in different ways; they would learn to unite as one before reaching Erebor.

They moved onto discussing the improbability of their expedition, hoping that their small number would give them a tactical advantage while not proving too weak in confrontational situations. Fili had been listening intently, interjecting when possible and offering his view from a warrior's perspective. It had been difficult at first to cut thoughts of Hayden out, but he found he had managed as soon as he found himself in a battle mindset.

"A smaller field party gives us the advantage of lying low when needed and moving quickly without much fallback. We need to ensure our warriors are constantly ready, trained, and vigorous, allowing for those who are not battle oriented to carry forward." Fili began. "And if we have every member of our party trained in some sort of combat, we can avoid unfortunate situations and lower our risk for defeat. As it is, I believe every dwarf is skilled with some sort of personal weapon - Ori has his slingshot of which I am not very approving, but we can help him mold that into a more tactful skill."

Thorin nodded his head in agreement, looking to Dwalin. "Should our burglar choose to accept his position, I expect you to train him. He would be our weakest link."

Dwalin unfolded his arms, letting one rest on the hilt of his smaller axe. "Aye, should be no problem at 'tall. He may take some time to physically adjust and I cannot promise a true dwarven warrior will be delivered out of him, but he will be sure to hold his own when I'm finished with him." He said with a nod.

Thorin nodded as well, accepting that Bilbo would not be a ferocious force like other members of the Company. "And the girl -" Thorin began.

"No." Dwalin said immediately. "I have several reservations regarding training the woman."

Fili stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders at the bald dwarf. Was this an attack on Hayden or a tactic to change Thorin's mind?

Thorin crossed his arms, cocking his head at his friend. "And what might those be?"

"I understand the importance she may have to our efforts in relation to her lineage. She appears level headed and relatively ambitious. I don't doubt she would be an asset to our Company in many ways." Dwalin stated. "I have seen her wield an axe, and while I admit I was impressed by the sight, cutting wood is hardly the same as cutting down an enemy."

"So you doubt her ability?" Balin asked.

"Nay, it's not her ability I place my discord with." Dwalin said with a shake of his head. "She was thorough and relentless when it came to chopping those logs."

"Agreed." Balin said, nodding his head as well. "I have no doubt she would carry that into battle training. A fine warrior she could turn out to be."

Thorin nodded his head at this information, accepting the fact that his most trusted advisor thought Hayden would make it through the difficult spots on their journey. He was not, however, understanding of why Dwalin would not train her.

"If it is not her ability nor her character you are hesitant about, what plagues you? Will you not train her?" Thorin asked pleadingly, wanting to know why his dear friend disagreed.

"If he won't, I will." Fili said, interjecting into the conversation. He had been struck with amazement that Dwalin would refuse such a task, especially when the man devoted most of his life to weapons and weapons training.

"No." Dwalin said, turning sharply to Fili.

"Why not?" Thorin asked, quirking his chin up in curiosity. It wasn't like Dwalin to be so forceful with his nephew.

"I am not certain that would be wise." Dwalin said cautiously. "My reservations lie within the implications that may be brought about with her presence - the distractions she would present Fili with." He clarified, maintaining his posture and stance in the hall.

"Distractions?" Fili blurted out, shocked that his kinsmen thought him so weak.

"Aye, laddie. The girl is not healthy for you. At least not at the present moment." Balin said kindly, pressing his lips together. "You are needed wholeheartedly on this journey to Erebor; we cannot have you wishing your life away on some woman you met in a hobbit's home." He finished.

Fili looked to Thorin for aid, seeing as he had invited Hayden on the quest. His uncle simply bit his lip, closing his eyes in contemplation. He couldn't let Thorin change his mind. Hayden had to have a spot on the Company whether she accepted it or not; the option had to remain available.

With a deep breath, Fili spoke. "Yes, she has presented me with a new path to follow, a chance at finding the answers I have sought for so long. But she is more than just a woman - she has been someone I've known for most of my life. She may not be aware of that fact yet, but I intend to remind her. While I understand the three of you may not fully know how I feel and may not believe my claims, she is the girl I've dreamt about. I know this for a fact." Fili finished, his cheeks red with frustration.

Thorin opened his eyes, looking to Fili. "She will be a distraction for you. I cannot allow for her to interfere with our task at hand."

Fili's heart fell to the floor. This could not be happening - his uncle had turned completely around in the wrong direction. Not knowing what could be done or said, he stood there like a whipped child awaiting his next beating.

"But," Thorin began, turning to Dwalin and Balin, "the girl has proved useful already. What Gandalf has claimed about the girl may be true yet, and I cannot in my heart let the plausibility of her lineage slip past unnoticed." He glanced to Fili, taking a deep breath. "If she is of true dwarven descent, she deserves to live a life alongside proper dwarves who can give her proper knowledge regarding her heritage. Regardless of what race her mother was, we should not let her linger in a place of hobbits dwelling inside hills. Let her accompany us, being of use if she can be, and we may gift unto her a homeland worth living in."

Fili felt his muscles relax, relief washing over him. Balin looked to his feet with a small nod, knowing he could not convince his King once his mind was made up; Thorin was very stubborn in this way. Dwalin looked openly at Thorin, accepting his words and opinion but half holding onto his reservations.

"Only a King recognizes the importance of a united race. That loyalty goes beyond clan association and kingdom faith." Balin said, giving Thorin a small smile. He looked to Fili, like a grandfather addressing a child. "But you needn't throw your life at her. Whatever your intentions may be with this girl, let them wait until we have reclaimed our homeland. Hmm?" He said.

Thorin nodded firmly, agreeing with Balin. "Balin is right. This girl is no threat to us physically, but if she interferes with your heart and delays us on our way, I will put an end to your association. As a King and Uncle I swear it." He said seriously.

Fili blushed slightly, attempting to swallow the embarrassment he suddenly felt. Usually when he and his uncle talked about women, Thorin was nagging at him to wed or at least begin looking to. "I have no intentions other than getting to know her more than I feel I already do. And getting some answers if I'm able." Fili said coolly. "I know my duty lies with my people and to the line of Durin - no where else. My allegiance is to the Company."

"Aye." Dwalin said, nodding to himself before looking to Thorin. "So is mine. If you need her trained, I will see to it. I may not believe in the appropriateness of it as you do, but I cannot deny her of a home that belongs to her." He looked to Fili, raising his eyebrows slightly. "And I will allow you to assist in training if you are inclined."

Fili nodded, his mouth in a tight smile. "Fair enough." He said, attempting to hold back the joy he felt inside. Usually he had much more self control regarding his emotions. He knew they were right; Hayden was a major distraction. He vowed to himself that he would put more effort into maintaining his reactions and emotions.

"Now, onto the matter of gathering funds for our un-incurred expenses." Balin began.

Fili looked up, tuning out Balin's voice when noticing a glimmer of red down the hall. Hayden emerged from the kitchen door with a cup of water in hand, pausing to smile at Dori who was going into the kitchen for another cup of camomile tea. Ready for bed in a floral nightgown, she walked down the hallway, nearing the dining room where a few dwarves still sat in conversation. The others had taken positions in the hall, respecting Bilbo's need for a moment of space.

"If you will excuse me." Fili said, nodding to Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin as he stepped away from their conversation.

He took off down the hallway, ignoring Bofur's inquiry as to where he was headed. Bofur called for Kili, thinking perhaps he would know where the elder brother was headed, but Fili simply continued on. Thorin hadn't called him back either, signifying he wouldn't be missed. He needed to speak with Hayden before she retired for the night; trying to get into her room to speak with her would only cause heated discussions and a backlash in his plan.

She had neared her room, just approaching the door, when he spoke up. "Miss?" He called. His voice had been a bit too loud, but he couldn't care. He would much rather speak with her and be picked on by the others for it than miss the opportunity entirely.

She turned, a surprised smile on her face. It was obvious she hadn't expected anyone to seek her out for conversation. "Yes?" Hayden asked lightly. The sound of her voice was like dew on the petals of flowers, subtle yet beautiful and perfect.

Fili found himself stuck in place several feet away from her and struggling for the words he wished so desperately to get out. If he brought up the dreams, she would either know what he was talking about or have no clue at all - either scenario was a gamble in his opinion, each with monumental outcomes.

"I just wanted to ask what your thoughts were on the quest. Regarding your signature." He said, thinking on his feet. If he couldn't bring himself to ask her the important questions, he may as well get her position of acceptance or refusal.

She bit her lip, looking to her door. Fili briefly hoped she wasn't contemplating running through it and slamming it in his face. Perhaps he shouldn't have caught her right before bed.

"If I'm being honest, I'm very much inclined to go." She said, shaking her head in thought.

Fili's eyes brightened at this. "You haven't signed the contract." He stated, brows coming together in question.

"Yes, I know." Hayden said, giving him a small smile. "Neither has Bilbo."

Fili nodded. "Yes, well, we assumed he had refused the offer entirely. You on the other hand were elusive in your response, at least to our knowledge."

Somehow the comment hit her funny bone, eliciting a few giggles that rose out of her chest.

"What is it?" Fili asked, confused as to what he said that was comical. "What have I said?"

She waved a hand at him, attempting to shrug her slumber-like silliness off. "It's nothing."

"It has to be something." He said, taking a few steps to close the distance between them. He would much rather have a conversation up close than down the hall.

"I just found it funny that you said you were _all_ assuming Bilbo was staying and had no idea what I was intending to do." She said, avoiding his gaze. "I think you meant to say _you_ were the one assuming and wondering." She added, trying to stop the self inflicted blush from spreading across her face. Half of her couldn't believe she was being so bold with him. She blamed it on exhaustion.

Fili chuckled, nodding his head in defeat and reaching up to scratch his neck in a nervous gesture. She saw right through him. "I suppose you're right." He admitted. "But I know the others are curious as well. We were discussing the matter."

Hayden nodded with a knowing smile. "Well you can tell the others that I am resolving to sleep on my decision. There is a lot at play here and I don't know what's best for me." She said.

Fili nodded in acceptance, giving her a sad smile. "Whatever your decision is, we will honor it."

"Thank you." Hayden said. His kindness perplexed her, not used to others being so understanding or giving in their opinions.

"Of course." Fili replied. "Don't let me disrupt you from getting your rest." He added, aware that he had put a stop to her retiring for the night.

"You haven't." She said immediately, as though she were worried she had given off some sort of attitude that would suggest his presence was not wanted. "I probably won't get to sleep for a while. My mind has a tendency to run away with me."

Fili pulled his brows together in concern. "Is there something that troubles you?" He asked.

Hayden thought for a moment, wondering if she should say anything about her nightmares or her struggle since reawakening in Middle-Earth. It wasn't that she needed to pour her life's story out to the dwarf, but for one reason or another she felt keeping information from him was wrong. Regardless, she reminded herself that she barely knew him; he didn't need to know everything about her. At least, not yet.

"There are many things that trouble me, but only if I let them." She said with a smile. This way, she didn't lie to him but she didn't give him distinct details.

As though he took the hint, he didn't press further over the comment. "Yes, I often find myself awake in the late hours of the night. It would seem that no matter how hard I try, my problems seek me out. Regardless of whether or not I let them."

Hayden smiled. "Well perhaps you'll have to try yelling at them. That seems to work for me." She said, joking at the altercation she had held earlier with him and Kili.

Fili laughed, half rolling his eyes. "Yes, you seem to be quite good at that. Perhaps I should wake my brother when I can't sleep - yell at him and see if my problems vanish."

"I bet they would." Hayden said seriously, though she let out a small chuckle. "Just don't imply he's too promiscuous; that may be a bit much."

Fili shook his head with exaggeration. "He could only dream to be as promiscuous as he thinks he is."

Hayden let out another laugh, full and honest. The sound was music to Fili's ears and warmth to his heart, especially knowing that he had provided her with a reason to smile.

They stared at each other for a moment, the air thick with sleep and innocence. "This quest - it's much more than that. Isn't it?" Hayden asked gently.

Fili's stomach churned, his mind racing over the endless reasons and explanations he could answer with. This quest was the reclaiming of a homeland, a fulfillment of prophecy, a new beginning, calculated and executed with the most honorable of intentions. There seemed to be too much to say and yet he found he couldn't find the exact words.

"Yes. It is much more than that." Fili said, nodding his head and staring down at the tips of his boots. "It is the beginning of a new journey, a new future, for our people."

Hayden nodded, noticing the hesitation in Fili's voice. There obviously was much more at work behind the tale of mountain dwelling dragons and hidden dwarvish doors. Whatever it was, she knew not to pry. If she did go on the quest, she would find out eventually.

"You've had a long day. You should get some sleep or rest at least. You've been on your feet nearly all day I take it." Hayden said, searching Fili's eyes.

The comment took Fili by surprise. The girl hadn't said this to be rid of him; by the tone in her voice, she genuinely cared. It was a notion that was unexpected and new. At first he wanted to reject her kindness, not wanting to accept it as honest in origin. He resolved to find comfort in the thought she may think so affectionately towards him.

"As have you." He said with wide eyes, emphasizing her stressful and strenuous day was nothing to be overlooked.

She shook her head in agreement. "I'm going to be sore in the morning."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing we purchased ponies for our journey. Otherwise I would have to carry you." Fili said teasingly. He usually wasn't this carefree with others, particularly women, yet he found it natural around Hayden.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Pity. I have a saddle that would fit you perfectly." She said sarcastically, though the seriousness in her face made Fili question whether or not she was making a joke. His expression only made her laugh more, covering her mouth so as not to be too loud this late. "I was joking." She blurted out, giggles trailing out of her.

"And so was I." He said, giving her a cheeky stare.

"About what?" She asked in confusion.

"About the ponies. We only have fourteen, so I'm afraid you'll have to walk either way."

"If Bilbo does go, then yes. I suppose I will have to walk. But even if he does, I can ride with him." She retorted, a contemplative look in her eyes.

"That was also a joke." Fili said, smiling weakly. "I would never make a lady walk nor would any of my comrades."

"Oh." She said, blushing slightly. She hadn't taken the comment as a joke at all, not used to these societal formalities.

"Do not worry." Fili said reassuringly. "Whether you choose to stay or take your place in the Company, you will not be mistreated."

Somehow the comment warmed her heart. These dwarves were good individuals despite their apparent stereotypes and their intrusive mannerisms. Deep down they understood the value of hard work and appreciated others' well-beings.

A deep thundering noise came from the parlor. It rang throughout the halls, reverberating off the rafters and various pieces of furniture.

"What is that?" Hayden asked, unsure as to what the noise was.

They stood silent, listening as other thundering notes came rolling down the hall in harmony. Fili turned to Hayden, a small smile on his face. "They are singing."

"Singing? I didn't know dwarves sang this much." She said. The comment was ignorant, and she realized it as soon as the words left her mouth. She just hadn't considered the race to have a musical quality; this made two spontaneous bursts of song in one night.

"We sing quite frequently actually." Fili said, shrugging off her statement. "This song is one we sing as a reminder of our homeland, about the burning of our kingdom and our pledge to see it rebuilt."

Hayden looked remorseful, ashamed she had made such a silly comment amidst such a serious atmosphere. She wanted to know what had happened to their home, deciding this was a conversation for a later time as Fili already seemed to avoid going too in depth into the topic.

Recognizing Hayden's change in demeanor, Fili attempted to lighten the mood. "I play the fiddle from time to time as well."

"Really?" She said, beaming at him with curious eyes.

He nodded. "I brought it with me, as a matter of fact."

"I can't wait to hear you play it!" She exclaimed.

Fili nodded, blushing slightly. "Then I suppose that means you have decided to come with us?" He prodded gently.

Hayden froze, realizing what she had just said. Her heart and mind had yearned to go; evidently her subconscious had already made the decision. "I didn't..." She mumbled, not knowing exactly what to say. "It would seem I have." She shrugged, deciding being honest about her feelings was the right thing to do.

Fili practically fell to the floor in excitement, wanting nothing more than to profess how happy her decision had made him. Holding back this urge, he failed to hide the radiant smile on his face. "Should I get the contract for you to sign?" He asked, glancing back to the dining room where the contract sat on the table.

"No." She said, shaking her head. "I still would like to sleep on it. If I feel differently in the morning I don't want to have already signed my life away."

Fili nodded in understanding, slightly nervous about the fact she may change her mind. Still, it was more than he could have hoped for hours ago when his uncle had forbade her presence. "I will patiently await your answer." Fili said. Without thinking, he reached for her hand.

She stood motionless, confused as to what the blond dwarf was doing, yet trusting that he would not harm her. He took her small hand in his, coarse and clad in leather, and raised it to his mouth. He brushed his lips along her knuckles, the facial hair tickling her skin and the beads on either end of his mustache a cool contrast to his breath.

Her skin had smelt of roses, fresh and sweet. He found himself longing for one more touch, one more kiss upon her skin if she would allow it. He knew this to be forbidden, both by his comrades and by his personal vow. No matter what his heart secretly yearned for he could not have it, at least not at the present moment. In more ways than one, he hardly knew who she was or where she came from.

Fili knew he needed to become more acquainted with her at least, eventually coming to a consensus and agreement regarding the dreams. Her memory or lack thereof would hold the position for how that conversation went, either painting him as a friend or insane man. For now, he had to force himself to step back and withhold any impulse he had. He had sworn she would be no distraction, and so she couldn't be.

He let go of her hand gently, stepping back to physically refuse himself of anything more, though he knew she had not expected much else. In fact, the blush and wide eyes that met his gaze informed him that she hadn't expected the kiss at all. Perhaps he had already made a mess of things.

"Good night." He said quietly, smiling at her with his eyes.

She let her lips form a small smile, subtle yet reserved. "Good night." She whispered.

Taking one last look at the blond dwarf, she slipped into her bedroom, closing the door softly with a click.

Fili lingered there a moment longer, staring at the space where she had just stood. Without a doubt he would have to control his emotions and urges, especially if the friendship he had with Hayden from their dreams could be established in reality.

If this evening were any indication, he would find himself in a hard place diplomatically and emotionally on a long road to Erebor with thirteen other pairs of eyes witnessing his every move. Fili couldn't deny the weightlessness he felt around Hayden, feeling as though everything else in his life paled in comparison to their sparse moments together. He just had to make sure he stayed true to his word, ensuring there were moments for them to have ahead.

Fili turned on his heel, pacing slowly back to the parlor where he gathered everyone had assembled. No matter what was said to him upon entry of the room he would be in good spirits.

He stepped into the parlor, the dim light of the fire reaching his face. His brother smiled softly at him from the floor, looking to the Company as the others began singing once more.

 _The mountain smoked beneath the moon;_

 _The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom._

 _They fled their hall to dying fall_

 _Beneath his feet, beneath the moon._

Fili knew the next verse by heart, always enjoying the sense of empowering duty the words left him with as a child. Without even thinking, he opened his mouth to join in.

 _Far over the misty mountains grim_

 _To dungeons deep and caverns dim_

 _We must away, ere break of day,_

 _To win our harps and gold from him!_

A resounding silence filled the room, thick with the hopes and fears every dwarf harbored in their souls; this journey was not to be taken lightly. Out of every song, every legend, every story that had originated from Smaug's overtaking of Erebor, this quest was to outrank them all. Whether they failed or succeeded, their efforts would be the new history; songs would be sung about them in years to come.

Fili let his shoulders relax as the smell of pipe tobacco and cedar surrounded his face. Today he had found his friend after endless years of searching and had become an official member of the Quest for Erebor. He was taking part in the reclaiming of his rightful home and was finally on the path to receiving the answers he had never held. No matter which way he looked at things, tomorrow was looking even better.


	12. The Morning and The Ponies

Smaug crashed down the mountain, his claws digging deep into the earth like a massive, uncontrollable plow. Rocks flew this way and that, exploding away the hillside as Fili ran desperately down the incline.

The dragon was antagonizing Thorin and Kili on Fili's left, Hayden on his right. They stood in cages clad in gold and jewels, prisoners waiting to be dealt with by the thief under the mountain, the reigning serpent King.

Each time Fili would reach one of the cages, Smaug would attack the other one, knocking it around and snapping at the bars with his lengthy razor teeth. As soon as Fili saw the glow of fire begin to form in Smaug's throat, he would run to the other cage, prompting the dragon to alter course and resume attacking the opposite cage.

It was a game, stupid and frustrating to Fili. He couldn't understand why Smaug wasn't sticking in one place - that way he could directly attack the snake and put an end to this charade.

"Stop!" Fili yelled, reaching into Thorin and Kili's prison to grasp their hands. "You have the mountain. You have the gold. What more do you want?" Fili pleaded.

Smaug whipped Hayden's cage with his tail, sending her flying hundreds of feet into the air. Her cage came slamming down into the hillside, rolling over, before somehow standing right back up with every jewel in place. Hayden was alive, much to Fili's surprise, but that didn't stop Smaug.

The dragon ran at her, attempting to smash her underneath his monstrous weight. Seeing as the dragon had a larger distance to cover to get back to Hayden, Fili seized the opportunity. He took off from his uncle and brother, running like a madman toward the beast before Hayden was crushed beneath his grotesque weight.

Smaug continued running, an orange glow blooming in his chest as he approached Hayden. The closer Fili got, however, the slower Smaug became. The dragon stopped entirely, eerily craning his neck and lowering his eyes at Fili. Just as Fili suspected, Smaug turned towards the other cage and began to sprint.

Fili swung at Smaug's legs, attempting to cut a tendon and inflict the most damage he could. The beast was simply too large and too powerful; his wounds looked like the remnants of a deep splinter.

Fili wasn't sure how much farther he could run and how much harder he could fight. "You cannot have them!" FIli shouted at Smaug, hoping these words would stop him from going after Thorin and Kili in the other cage.

Surprisingly Smaug stopped, looking back at Fili over his shoulder with an inquisitive smirk. "I already do." He drawled out. His tail flicked, much like a cat's, as he slithered to face Fili head on.

Fili stood his ground, adamant that he would leave with the three individuals he was trying to save. Smaug came all the way to Fili's face, sniffing his hair and breathing horrid breath down on him like a dry summer wind. In an unnatural motion, the dragon reared back on his hind legs, towering over everything in sight - even the mountain.

"You must choose. You cannot have all of them. You can pick a cage to empty, claiming the contents as your prize if you can escape in time." Smaug said, thunderous and overpowering.

"I will not choose!" Fili called back. The dirt and dust had clouded the air, poking at his eyes and catching in his throat. "Neither are yours to keep!"

A red glow illuminated Fili's face. "Then neither are yours to take." Smaug replied.

In a swift motion, Smaug opened his mouth for the flames to escape from the depths of his stomach, turning both left and right so that each cage were equally threatened with his scorching death.

Fire was raining down, licking at Fili's face as he tried to decide who to save: Thorin and Kili or Hayden. Neither option was fair nor was it meant to be; the very decision itself would incinerate his heart before the flames could.

With one foul swoop, Smaug slammed down onto all four legs, his belly gorging once more with the fire he was about to spew. Fili stood, motionless, when suddenly the solution came to him. If he could not choose who to save, perhaps they could save themselves. His life was a worthy sacrifice if it meant they could live on.

"Kill me!" He shouted.

Smaug chuckled, deep and disastrous. It would seem he wasn't playing Fili's game. Fili ran at the dragon, screaming to no end as his feet flew underneath him. Smaug paused his fire breath, watching the dwarf flail beneath his belly.

"Take me!" Fili screamed again, throwing down his swords in defeat. He was offering the dragon his life - why was it not enough?

The sound of Hayden screaming hit his ears first, followed by the sound of Thorin calling for Kili before letting out an anguished cry of pain himself. Their screams echoed in the darkness, nothing else amidst the sound of the flames consuming every bit of flesh in their path. When his heart had finally broken, Fili submitted himself to the heat. It claimed his body first, lingering upon his face as tears desperately streamed out of his eyes, becoming steam in their paths on his cheeks; their small watery bodies could not squelch the fire.

Fili awoke to the sun peeking in through the window pane of the parlor. A ray struck him right in the eye, dead center, so that he was blinded immediately upon opening his eyes. He sat up in a panic, having felt the heat on his face and thought himself still asleep. That certainly was not the kind of dream he expected to have, especially after being in close proximity to Hayden.

Beads of sweat dripped down his brow and back, sticking to his clothes and leaving him with an unpleasant feeling. He hadn't bathed in days, and though he knew the journey would be a dirty and relatively bath-less road, he found himself yearning for a quick scrub down.

Gandalf sat in an arm chair, his head rolled to the side. The tall man looked dead, Fili pausing to ensure he was still breathing. Evidently Gandalf slept motionless, stunned and still in his sleep. The other members of the company still laid around in clumps, snoring and drooling like babes in their cribs. He could slip into the bathroom to wash before any of them awoke.

Standing, he walked quietly to where his belongings sat near the fireplace. His boots were still placed near his pack which was stuffed with a few changes of clothes. His pants would fit him well for a good while - a new shirt would be all he'd need.

The sound that his bare feet made against the tile was alarming - he suddenly felt like he was making too much noise in an already overly crowded house. Taking extra caution, he found his way down the hallway towards the bathroom. He passed Hayden's door, smiling briefly at the thought of her tucked underneath miles of blankets. Hopefully she was dreaming peacefully.

The task didn't take too long - there was fresh water to be poured out of the pipes and a clean towel to use for washing; there was even soap, hardly used, in a silver dish near the sink.

As though succumbing to the purity of the water, Fili decided to fully wash himself, dousing his hair in the cool liquid. It fell to the tub in tiny rivers, washing away the phantom ash and piercing heat he still felt on his skin.

Once he had dried and dressed, he took a look at himself in the mirror. It had been a while since he truly observed his reflection, often relying on the opinion and word of others regarding his appearance. His eyes were tired but still the same shade of blue as his father's. His hair had grown longer than he remembered, now dripping and relatively flat on his head. He was pleased with the way his mustache still looked - his brother had given him a hard time regarding the beads he placed on either side, saying that when his hair grew longer the beads would only make him look foolish.

For one reason or another, Hayden floated into his mind. He wondered what she thought of him from a female standpoint. Did she admire his mustache as he did, or was she like Kili, thinking it odd? He turned in the small mirror, taking note of the way his shirt draped over his broad shoulders.

In a fit of curiosity, he tore the shirt off, looking into the mirror to judge his own body. He wasn't planning on exposing himself to Hayden or any one else anytime soon, but he wondered if she would have liked what she saw. Perhaps she was like the other women he had known, wanting a man much leaner and taller, with muscles less prominent and more uniform. Or perhaps she would find him attractive, short, defined, and muscular in every way. The unknown caused a stir within Fili's heart, bringing a glimmer of doubt into his subconscious.

With a frustrated sigh, he slipped the shirt back on, fastening a few buttons. He heard a noise outside his door, a small yet consistent ruffling. Without hesitation, he opened the bathroom expecting to find Nori or Bifur up and about, seeing as they were usually early risers. Instead, he was met with deep grey eyes, peeking out between strands of red hair.

Hayden stood in the hallway, clutching a piece of ornately carved wood to her chest while struggling to hold onto an inkwell, pen, and a piece of parchment. He rushed to her, reaching out to take the pen and paper.

She nodded slightly, avoiding his gaze. "Thank you." She whispered with a small smile.

Fili nodded once, taking in the sight of her. Her hair was still tucked back into a braid, yet pieces were flying out every which way, catching the sun perfectly as she moved her head in and out of the rays coming in from some of the small windows. The nightgown she had on was wrinkled, indicating she had slept soundly and continuously, a comforting thought in comparison to his own nightmare. Beneath the dress were small toes, wiggling slightly against the cold tile.

"What are you doing?" He asked with an adoring smile.

Hayden opened her mouth to speak, closing it quickly and looking down the hall. She didn't want to reveal her intentions in front of Bilbo. After all, she was trying to surprise her friend.

"I made this for Bilbo last night. I wanted to give it to him." She said quietly, risking a glance in his direction.

Fili gasped slightly. "You made that?" He asked.

Hayden blushed, looking down at her feet. "Yes." She said timidly.

"It's gorgeous." He said simply, reaching out to stroke a bumblebee carved into one of the leaves on the wood.

His movement shook her, causing her to freeze in place. Fili noticed her tense up, retracting his hand after a moment. He had reached for her last night only to give her hand a kiss, yet he knew the gesture had been unexpected. Perhaps she was alarmed now, expecting him to do something more. Then again, she hadn't looked at him since he emerged from the bathroom; was something wrong?

"Miss?" He asked, searching her face for a sign. "Have I done something to offend you?"

She looked at him, apologetic in expression. "No." She whispered, shaking her head. "You're just..." She trailed off, glancing down his torso at his half exposed chest.

Fili followed her gaze, realizing his appearance must have startled her. "I apologize." He slipped out, fastening the rest of the buttons and letting the ties hang loose near his collar bone. "I thought you were someone else, otherwise I wouldn't have come out like this." He offered. The last thing he wanted was for Hayden to think he held any ill intentions.

Hayden nodded in understanding, waiting for him to finish. "Will you carry those into the kitchen for me?" She asked, taking a few steps back.

Fili nodded, stepping behind her as quietly as he could. His footsteps had been so loud earlier yet hers were silent and steady. They walked into the kitchen, Hayden placing the tea kettle perch on the table and nodding to Fili for him to leave the inkwell and parchment as well.

"Thank you." Hayden said, giving him a small smile. She sat down, sliding the parchment in front of her and grabbing the pen and ink.

Fili sat on her opposite, trailing a finger over the carved wood once more. The attention to detail was simply immaculate; he could never in a million years carve something so beautiful, and in one night, no less!

"If you are gifting this to your friend, why not simply give it to him? Why write a letter?" Fili whispered, watching Hayden gently scribble a few words.

"Because I most likely won't be here when he wakes up." She said matter-of-factly.

Fili's ears could barely comprehend what Hayden had said. The thing he had been hoping for in his heart was suddenly reality, despite all the seeds of doubt that had been planted over the last evening. He hadn't given much thought to saying goodbye to Hayden this morning or having to decide whether or not to address the dreams, yet suddenly relief flooded his veins. He wouldn't have to rush anything and he wouldn't have to spend the journey to Erebor yearning for answers he could not have.

What would the journey be like with her presence? In the short time he had been around her, he felt as though he would burst out of his skin at any moment. The air seemed to hum with familiarity, entrancing him and calling for him to seek the truth. Fili knew he had to restrain himself and control his thoughts, yet in some ways he realized he didn't want to. The issue surrounding his self control was important, but at the present moment he didn't care to ponder over it.

Various scenarios ran through his head regarding Hayden - his involvement in her training, the stories they would exchange, the memories they would make. No doubt there would be many a day they would exchange glances and many a night they would spend together. Somehow the quest became even more rewarding - he would claim his rightful home all while enhancing an old, albeit unknown, friendship.

He would be given the chance to discover just who Hayden was, what made her tick. Every undeniable thing about her was new territory, new brilliant pieces of information for him to reveal. In some strange way, the thought of not knowing someone he felt he knew so well was exciting more than it was frustrating. For the first time in nearly his entire life, he felt as though his life held more purpose and fulfillment than ever before.

"Would you do me a favor?" Hayden asked suddenly.

"Of course." Fili said, eager to oblige and happy she was asking for his help. He quickly pushed down the thoughts of Hayden, satisfied with the fact he had all the time in the world with her to look forward to.

"In my room on the nightstand is a handkerchief. It has the initials 'B.B.' in gold thread on it - do you think you could bring it out here?" Hayden asked, writing as she spoke. She looked up to Fili briefly, ensuring he was indeed still present and listening.

"Yes. Give me a moment." Fili said, swinging his feet quietly out from underneath the table and standing to retrieve the handkerchief.

He walked quickly and quietly down the hall to her room, pushing open the already unlatched door. Fili wasn't quite sure what he expected upon entering, but he found himself stopped in the doorway, analyzing the room closely.

The decorations were sparse yet feminine, reflecting that of a quirky hobbitish charm Fili had come to recognize; he assumed this had been a bedroom of Bilbo's sister or mother or perhaps an aunt or niece. The bed was already made up, despite the fact Hayden had just awoken and was still dressed in her night clothes. At the foot of the bed, draped over a small bench, were the clothes Hayden had worn the day before. Various books sat on the nightstand as well as on flat surfaces of the windowsill, wardrobe, and dresser.

All in all, the room was clean and put together much to Fili's surprise. It wasn't that he had expected Hayden to be a messy guest, he simply hadn't expected her to be so thoroughly organized. The thought brought a smile to his heart, realizing that their polished mindsets were very similar. He had also enjoyed reading, though he found he didn't always have much time for it. He would have to inquire what her favorite books were.

Not wanting to dally any longer, Fili paced to the nightstand and grabbed the handkerchief Hayden had wanted. Practically jogging out of the room, he walked back into the kitchen, handkerchief in hand, and sat back down in front of Hayden.

"What is this?" Fili asked quietly. Though some of the dwarves were now stirring awake, he didn't want to go and wake the entire Company up just yet.

"That is a handkerchief." Hayden answered, focused on writing. She winced a few times, shaking her hand out in the air. The calluses on her palms from chopping wood were hurting more with each stroke of the pen.

Fili scoffed, shaking his head as he thumbed the scalloped edges of the linen. "Yes. I know what a handkerchief is." He replied. "I was asking what it was for - why did you need me to retrieve it?"

"Oh." Hayden said with a chuckle. "I had that made for Bilbo yesterday as a 'thank you' for taking me in." She began, tapping the pen in the inkwell once more. "Bilbo gave me a bunch of money to spend while he ran errands, but I didn't feel right about that. I had ran into a farmer who needed help and he ended up paying me. It wasn't a lot, but I hadn't even expected anything; I just wanted to help the man." She said, writing furiously as though time were of the essence. "I used the coin I made on that handkerchief, sitting with the old woman who stitched it and making an unexpected friend of her." Hayden went back and read a sentence, as though she were checking for errors.

Fili took mental note of this moment, trying to burn it to memory. Hayden seemed to be quite talkative this morning and he enjoyed every minute of it. Hearing her voice was like listening to the first birds of spring, a sound well awaited and beautiful every time.

"I was going to give the handkerchief to him last night," Hayden continued, "over dinner after I had finished chopping wood. But then things went rather differently." She said, looking up at Fili with a small smile. "I ended up making that tea kettle perch after Ori had asked about another piece I carved." Hayden blew on the paper, trying to make the ink dry faster than it was. "Bilbo's other one broke."

"So that's what this is." Fili said, looking over the carved wood once more. He knew it was some sort of hook, but he hadn't figured out what for.

"Would you mind making sure this dries?" Hayden asked, gently sliding the parchment over to Fili, careful to avoid the spots of wet ink.

Fili looked at her, shaking his head. "I will guard this with my life until every splotch of ink is as dry as a desert." He said with a smile. He noticed she was holding her hand, massaging her right palm gently with her fingers flexed. "You should put something cold on your hand. Oin may have some salve that will draw the soreness from your muscles."

"Thank you." Hayden said with a smile, turning to stand and pushing away the attention. She appreciated the gesture, but she didn't want to appear weak; she wouldn't have the ability to relax or take things easy on the journey. "I'm going to go get myself dressed."

"Do you need help packing your things?" Fili asked, slightly too loud. He saw Gloin roll over in the parlor.

"No." Hayden said, looking at Gloin's movements as well. "I don't have many things as it is. I'll be traveling light."

"Don't let Dwalin hear that. He may think to use you as our pack mule." Bofur said, giving Hayden a gentle pat on the back as he came through the kitchen door with a beaming smile.

"Good morning." Hayden said to Bofur, blushing slightly at his comment.

"And a good mornin' it is, lass. I'm glad to hear you will be joining us." He said. Though tired, his eyes were kind and full of adventure. Hayden briefly wondered how he managed to drink so much ale and wake up feeling none of it.

She turned down the hallway, suddenly aware she had been lounging around in a nightgown in front of these dwarves. There would be no private rooms or dressing quarters on the road; she would have to get used to being seen in various situations whether she liked it or not.

"What's this?" Bofur asked, sitting down across from Fili in Hayden's spot.

Fili looked up at Bofur's inquiring eyes. "That is a tea kettle perch." He answered strongly. Now that he knew what it was, he wasn't going to act as though he hadn't known prior.

"No, this." Bofur said, reaching over and picking up the handkerchief. "I knew that was a kettle perch as soon as I lain me eyes on it." He said with a smirk.

Fili looked at him sideways. "What?" Bofur asked with a shrug. "I do enjoy tea."

Fili shook his head with a smile, now addressing the handkerchief. "It's a handkerchief Hayden had made for Bilbo. As a thank you gift."

"Ah." Bofur said, nodding and placing the linen back down. "And what does this say?" He asked further, glancing down at the letter.

"Why are you so interested in what all of this is?" Fili asked lightly. It seemed as though Bofur were toying with him, making a larger deal over the items than need be.

Bofur shrugged. "Seems like an awful lot of effort for someone. Bilbo must mean a good deal to her. I think the gesture is sweet; I knew Hayden was kind but I suppose I am just now gettin' a glimpse into how warm of a place her heart must be."

Fili smiled, attempting to hide the blush that had invited itself onto his face. Bofur chuckled, knowing Fili thought the same of Hayden. "Let me read it?" Bofur asked, though it was more of a demand.

Fili slid the paper over. "Be careful, it may still be wet."

"Aye." Bofur said, nodding and looking down at the parchment:

 _My Dearest friend,_

 _I'm not sure how to begin this other than by telling you I will miss you very much. You have given me a home and helping hand and a friendship that will stay with me to my last day; I can never fully repay you for that. All I can do is hope you find happiness in the days between now and the next time we see each other._

 _The tea kettle perch is something I carved for you. I used the iron base from your broken one - I hope you don't mind - and fastened a new hook from one of the logs I chopped yesterday. While I was carving the leaves and flowers, I thought back to those moments we spent in the garden; I will look forward to those moments again. Use it well and remember to buy more tea! If you forget, I'm sure little Emlia will be happy to remind you. Tell her I look forward to playing that game of hers._

 _The handkerchief is something I had made for you yesterday in the market. Maisy stitched your initials and the beautifully scalloped border. I wasn't sure if yellow or gold was a favorite color of yours, but I thought it looked nice. If you see her in the market, pay her a visit for me. She may be old and slightly odd, but she really does have a kind soul. I don't think she gets the company she deserves._

 _I had a lot of time to think over my acceptance or refusal of the dwarves' offer and found I wouldn't be happy staying here. Not because I would be unhappy around you but because I would have regretted the unknown for a lifetime to come. I don't want to waste any more of my life thinking or wishing about what might have been. I've done enough of that. I want to go out and make things happen for a change._

 _I have spent a lot of time in the Shire, as you know, searching for something. I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew I needed to find something to help make me whole again. I realized that the first step in finding what I need deep inside is to go looking for it; if I am to go looking for it, I may as well go on an adventure._

 _I understand why you don't want to leave your home, I truly do. There is a certain comfort in keeping things the way they are, even if you know life could be improved with something new. Maybe there is something bigger and better you are destined for. But my problem with that is you never know what opportunities lie in wait, waiting for you to take the first step on a path you wouldn't normally travel._

 _I have to do this. For who I was and for who I am now. I want to know who I can be, who I am supposed to be. For the first time in a long time, I have to listen to my heart._

 _All my love, Hayden_

* * *

Hayden stood at the foot of her bed eyeing the clothes she had lain out on the mattress. In her possession she had three borrowed tunics, two pairs of brown trousers and one black which were also borrowed, her ratty old tank top, the slippers Bilbo had gifted her, and her divinely lavish purple cloak that she still wasn't sure she deserved.

She didn't own much, though Bilbo insisted everything he had given her was now hers to keep, yet the display on her bedding seemed overwhelming. Could she really afford to bring everything with her or would it be too much? The dwarves held their fair shares of bags and belongings, but she knew those to be full of food and supplies, not just clothing. Still, this was all she had.

Then came the matter of her snow boots. They were shoved underneath the bed, where she had kicked them last night after chopping wood. They were hot, clunky, and quite frankly, hideous in comparison to the shoes she had seen the dwarves wear. The dwarven footwear seemed to scream sophisticated class, boots of brilliantly carved and tucked leather with an occasional metallic embellishment or clasp. Other than the slippers she had seen in the market in Hobbiton, she hadn't had other footwear to compare hers to in the Shire. Suddenly she reminded herself to be thankful she didn't have hairy hobbitish feet.

She couldn't very well go walking in the wilderness barefoot and she didn't want to ruin the slippers. With a reluctant sigh, she took the slippers and placed them inside one of Belladonna's chests for safe keeping; she would use them when she returned home.

With the same notion, she slipped off the nightgown and folded it inside the chest as well. As much as she would like to take it, she didn't imagine there would be much use for a nightgown when camping with thirteen dwarves - even if they managed to stay in a few inns.

She slipped her bra on followed by a burgundy tunic and a pair of brown trousers. The rest of the clothes were folded neatly and stacked together with the cloak remaining separate - Hayden wanted to keep that handy in case it was needed.

There was a small knapsack looking bag inside Belladonna's chest; Hayden took it out and inspected it. Nothing was inside and it seemed to be relatively unused. She mused that perhaps the bag was to be used for such impulsive adventures as this one but never was taken out of the Shire. Shrugging the thought off, she began packing it.

Hayden grabbed her hairbrush and female herbs as well, not wanting to have a disastrous scenario on the road when she was not accustomed to dealing with womanly issues in a world very different than her own. She wondered briefly if she should grab a blanket for cold nights but ignored the thought; she didn't want to take too many things without asking Bilbo. She could always use her cloak.

Her eyes wandered to a stack of books on the nightstand. There were so many she had read over the past month, but for some reason one seemed to call out to her, begging to be taken on the journey. She walked over, nimbly picking up 'The Bird Who Flew Too Far But Not Far Enough' from beneath an autobiography of a well established hobbit. This story had been familiar to her, somehow intertwining her old world and Middle-Earth. Whether or not the book would prove to be useful, Hayden didn't care. There was something homely about the story, something comforting. She tucked it inside the pack on the bed, deciding one book was acceptable to take along the road.

With her small sack packed and sitting on the bed, Hayden stood ready for the expedition. The thought of putting on the puffy black snow boots was frustrating, but she couldn't very well go out to help the dwarves get ready to leave and not be ready herself. The boots came up to her calves, exposing her knees in the gap between her pants and the top of the boots. She felt and looked ridiculous, but there was no other option.

Hayden opened the door, stepping out into the hallway full of muffled yet busy sounds as the dwarves meandered about. Her boots seemed to mush underneath her feet, the down fabric swooshing as she walked. It was irritating to say the least, but Hayden knew she could do nothing about it.

She walked into the kitchen, noticing her gifts for Bilbo still sat on the table, and smiled at Gandalf who sat silently, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired but well rested all at once, letting out a small sigh as he returned Hayden's smile.

She then smiled at Bombur who handed her an empty plate. "Good mornin', Miss! Would you like one egg or two?"

Hayden raised her eyebrows, not expecting the vibrant gesture. "Two please." She said quietly, watching as the overly round dwarf cracked two eggs on an already piping hot skillet. "And good morning." She added.

Bombur simply smiled, watching the eggs as they quickly turned a shade of bright white. "Would you like 'em runny or a bit hard?" He asked, motioning for her to get her plate ready.

"Runny sounds delicious." Hayden said. Somehow the thought of savory, gooey egg on toast brought saliva to her lips. In her packing efforts, she hadn't realized how hungry she had been.

Before she knew it, Bombur was lifting the eggs into the air with an artistic quality she only assumed was attributed to his skills as a chef. They landed gently on her plate, small stacks of steam rising from the yolk center.

"There's still some sausage and bread on the table." He said, cracking three more eggs into the pan.

Hayden moved into the dining room, grabbing a couple sausages from a platter and taking an end piece from the loaf of pre-sliced bread. "I'm surprised there's still food left!" Hayden called breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to stuff every bit of breakfast into her mouth.

Bombur nodded, turning to the arch to see Hayden. "Everyone has already had one helping - they're all onto seconds now. I made sure there was enough left for you as soon as I heard you were comin' with us. No one had a problem with it, except for Kili."

"Oh." Hayden said, poking one of her eggs so the yolk ran in streams across her plate. "Why is that?" She asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She hadn't meant to cause a rift between her and Fili's brother; she was afraid the situation was irreparable.

"Because he has a hard time restraining himself when it comes to food." Thorin called, walking in the kitchen and taking a plate from Bombur as well. Bombur must have known Thorin was coming, having his eggs prepared and ready as soon as the noble dwarf stepped in the room.

Hayden smiled weakly, recognizing the gesture as friendly but not wanting to joke at Kili's expense - he was Thorin's nephew after all.

Thorin sat down opposite Hayden, taking a handful of sausages and popping one in his mouth. He chewed fast, swallowing with a lick of his lips. "He has a hard time restraining himself when it comes to a lot of matters, as I'm afraid you are already aware." Thorin said, making eye contact with Hayden before taking another large bite of food, chewing loudly in the silence.

Hayden swallowed hard, debating whether or not the dwarf in front of her was angry she had yelled at Kili or if he was just as apologetic as Fili had been. Deciding to play it safe, she sided with the former thought.

"Oh it doesn't bother me. I shouldn't have spoken to him like that - the whole situation was my fault." Hayden said with a shake of her head.

Thorin stopped chewing, placing his fork down against the edge of his plate. "My nephew may be naïve, but he should know how to treat a woman. I assure you, you will not receive mistreatment from any one member of the Company, especially not from myself or my nephews."

Hayden stared at the dwarf, a fork full of egg and sausage dangling in her hand. She wasn't used to such serious conversations, especially those surrounding formalities that didn't exist as strictly in her old world.

"I do apologize." Thorin added, taking Hayden's posture and silence as harbored anger.

She smiled briefly. "Thank you. Really, though. It was no bother. I realize he overstepped a line but I also realize he wasn't thinking. He's young - we all make mistakes."

Thorin looked down at his plate, lips pursed in thought. Hayden resumed eating, figuring he was simply done with the conversation but unsure what to say in response.

After a moment, Thorin looked up at her. "I am humbled by your perspective. Women are not normally as forgiving when it comes to the actions of men, actions which usually do not paint a fortunate or respectful end."

Hayden looked up at Thorin, alarmed by his sudden inference. He obviously didn't know about her past with Daniel, but had she given off some sort of body language or attitude that suggested she had a bad history with men? Was she simply being paranoid and sensitive over the subject?

Shrugging lamely, Hayden tried to sweep the conversation under the rug. "The situation is in the past. There's no need to glorify my perspective."

As if on queue, Kili walked into the kitchen. He stood in the arch with an empty plate in his hand as Bombur silently but effortlessly cracked six eggs in the pan, one after the other, with three fingers.

"But your response should be glorified. The world is already a cruel, harsh place. I do not wish to give you any further reason to fear it." Kili said. His eyes were sincere, though he could hardly hold Hayden's gaze for a second before glancing off somewhere else in embarrassment.

Shocked that this conversation was ongoing and more important that she deemed necessary, Hayden gave him a swift nod. "You haven't. I'm not afraid of the world or you." She took a bite of bread, popping a chunk of sausage in her mouth as well.

Kili smiled at Bombur as he piled on a mound of gently scrambled eggs onto the plate. Cautiously, he walked to sit next to Thorin at the table, placing his plate down first. He smoothed his tunic, clearing his throat and waiting until Hayden looked up at him.

"I am sorry." He said quietly, hoping she would accept his apology and he could begin placing himself back in everyone's, particularly Thorin's, good graces.

"And I forgive you." Hayden said. She smiled at him, realizing the dwarf was genuinely remorseful for his actions. "Eat your eggs before they get cold." She said, looking back to her plate and scooping up the last bit of yolk on her remaining piece of bread.

Kili visibly relaxed, sitting down quietly to attack the mountain of yellow on his plate. Silence had resumed in the kitchen, save for the sound of Bombur cooking. Hayden briefly looked up, noticing the smile that had found its way onto Kili's face. Whether it was due to her forgiveness or the delicious meal, she couldn't care. She wouldn't have to walk around on eggshells around any of the dwarves.

She stood and moved to the kitchen sink, cleaning her plate along with a few others that waited to be washed. Kili brought his and Thorin's plates to Hayden, cautiously smiling at her before heading into the parlor to finish packing. A few dwarves trailed into the kitchen, nodding to her in 'good morning'.

"You don't need to do that, lass. Ori's on dish duty this morn'." Gloin said, smiling through his facial hair at little Ori who stood in line for his breakfast.

"Oh I don't mind." Hayden said, setting aside a wet dish to be dried. "I don't have anything else to do or anyone to help. Unless there's something you need help with?"

Gloin shook his head, looking to Oin who quirked his head up in thought before shaking his head 'no' as well. They both looked at Dwalin, who had come in from the parlor.

Dwalin licked his lips. "I could use some help getting everyone's packs and weapons out front. The boys should be trailing in soon with the ponies." Dwalin said.

Hayden nodded quickly, recognizing her assistance was actually needed. "Let me just finish these two plates and I'll be right there."

Dwalin shook his head. "Take your time. I'll be a moment or so getting my belly full."

"I'll finish the dishes, Miss." Ori piped, up walking toward the table with his eggs. "Thank you for getting a start on them." He seemed to blush slightly, giving Hayden a childish glance.

Hayden smiled warmly, placing the last plate on the stack of others to be dried. She turned around, wiping her hands on her shirt.

"Hayden would you bring me that glass of water?" Gandalf asked, pointing to a full glass that sat near the sink.

She stepped to the sink, reaching between Ori and Gloin. "Here you go." Hayden said, handing the glass to Gandalf.

"Thank you, my dear." He said, taking an eager sip.

"Who went to get the ponies?" Hayden asked, looking around the room for someone to answer.

Bifur uttered something in Khuzdul, nodding to Bombur as he took his plate with a noticeable slump in his step.

"We couldn't find that many rams, and besides," Dori began to Bifur, "ponies will carry more and help us distribute the load. We won't be traversing many cliffs as it is." He finished with a scoff and scolding look, looking to Hayden to answer her question. "Nori, Bofur, and Fili went to retrieve the ponies. They were the first ones up, so the task fell to them."

Hayden nodded, realizing she hadn't seen Fili since coming out of her room after getting dressed. She tried to hide the blush that threatened to form on her cheeks at the realization - she felt somewhat guilty that she hadn't noticed Fili's absence yet she wasn't sure why.

Breaking up her train of thought, Balin called in from the parlor. "When you have a moment, Miss Telchara, would you also mind signing the contract?" He stood with his spectacles sitting on his nose, a hand on his hip.

Hayden had completely forgotten about the contract, focusing instead on Bilbo's gifts and packing. She rushed into the room, picking up the mile-long piece of parchment from the desk near the window.

Balin handed her an inkwell and pen, smiling stiffly. "Now, as it stands, presently you are the fourteenth member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Should your friend Mister Baggins choose to join us, you will become our fifteenth." He began, looking to Hayden to ensure she understood.

She nodded her head, indicating for the white haired dwarf to continue. "I have made the necessary changes within the document itself to reflect your position in our Company. That position is entitled 'assistant', though you need not think of yourself as such. You are a member of our Company and you can provide whatever you are capable of." Balin said, looking at Hayden over his spectacles.

Hayden smiled and nodded. "I'll assist with whatever I can to the best of my ability."

"Yes, yes." Balin said in a rush, looking down at the contract. "As our fourteenth member, you will receive a fourteenth of our total profit should we be so fortunate to accrue one. However, should Mister Baggins join us and should we accept his position as burglar, your fourteenth share will be divided into halves."

Hayden nodded in understanding. "Okay, that seems fair."

Balin sighed, somewhat relieved yet also pained. "Certain members of our Company felt it," he began, pausing for thought, "...unfair to divide the potential profit further into fifteenths, seeing as the quest was forged and agreed upon fourteen members, and thus, fourteen shares."

Hayden bit her lip. Though this made sense from a legal standpoint, she didn't want her presence to cause any hostile emotions, especially when money was involved. She wondered who had voiced this opinion, though it didn't really matter. The money wasn't any factor in her participation on this quest.

"That's no problem. I'm not going for the money." Hayden said, flicking the pen in her hand.

"You're not?" Dwalin asked, stepping down into the parlor. Hayden wondered how he had managed to eat as fast as he had, or if he had eaten at all.

She shook her head. "No."

"Then might I ask, what are you going for?" Dwalin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Somehow the stance intimidated Hayden, though she knew he would not harm her.

She thought for a moment, not prepared to answer such a simple yet heavy question. She glanced to Balin with a half smile, looking to Dwalin. "I'm going for myself. For a new start." She said with satisfaction. "For your new start." She added, reiterating the importance of the quest.

Balin nodded generously, raising his eyebrows at his taller brother. Dwalin simply let his arms fall to his sides, turning to stride over to the clump of belongings that were gathered near the fireplace. Dwalin reached down to a sack, presumably his own, searching inside for something. He stood up straight, walking over to Hayden and holding out a small, dull metal object.

Hayden took it, realizing it was a small blade sheathed in hammered metal. "What -" She began, looking up to the bald dwarf.

"For your protection. You will need training, no doubt. But until we can find time for such a task, that is yours to keep." Dwalin said, turning back to the area of packs and weapons. "And hopefully to never use." He added over his shoulder.

Hayden gripped the dagger tight, realizing the weight of Dwalin's words. She knew the quest was dangerous yet she hadn't given any thought to just how perilous it could be. Even with the mention of a dragon, she hadn't considered the fact she would have to fight or defend against enemies. She could hold her own, that she was sure of, but she hadn't ever considered taking the life of another. She couldn't even help her mother kill chickens as a child.

"Are you sure about this?" Balin asked, seemingly noticing Hayden's sudden change in posture and mood.

She nodded swiftly, ignoring the unknown and embracing the fear - combat was not guaranteed, and so she shouldn't guarantee herself a combative death.

Balin slid the parchment over the desk to her in response, tapping his finger on the line for her to sign. Dipping the pen in the ink, she signed her name just below the empty space left for Bilbo. She blew gently on the paper, admiring how well her penmanship had progressed since learning to use the traditional writing utensil.

Somehow the sight of her signature left a feeling of finality in her heart, as though the letters that strung together to form her name were verifiable proof she was part of the Company and no longer a girl with no story. She had signed her name to a new future.

* * *

Fili, Bofur, and Nori had left to settle matters with the ponies and bring the gentle giants back to Bag End. Gandalf was supposed to leave with them, staying beind to see to some business he had in town. He assured them he would return for the departure, not delaying the Company. Fili didn't entirely trust the wizard but felt questioning him about his business and intentions would get him nowhere and he had business of his own to see to.

Thorin had made arrangements for fourteen ponies to be purchased nearly three months prior, having written to the owner of a stable near the outskirts of the Shire. The rancher had agreed, wanting a fair amount of coin for the creatures and explaining to Thorin that he would need some time to buy some more ponies, as he only owned eight at the time of Thorin's inquiry. With luck, the prospect seemed to come together and Thorin was notified two weeks before traveling to the Shire that fourteen beautifully kept ponies were ready for taking.

Thorin had put Fili in charge of the task well before the meeting in the Shire. He had sat with his uncle on many occasion, going over what was said and what was expected of the rancher and the exchange. Fili had written to the hobbit personally, as a matter of fact, five mornings prior to inform him of their planned arrival in the Shire. Though Fili oversaw and was in charge of many a diplomatic task, this one had proven to be more nerve wracking. He was not only assisting his uncle with the tedious task of letter correspondence but he was making a direct contribution to the quest's efforts as a Durin Prince.

After half an hour, Fili, Bofur, and Nori arrived at the luscious patch of property, situated between two tall trees and in the middle of roaring fields. The home was erected in the center of a small dirt alcove, very different from the burrows and holes Fili had come to recognize hobbit homes by. The farmer had greeted the three with beaming eyes and a curly head of hair, stepping out of his small stone house.

"Good mornin' to ya!" He called, raising a hand in the air in greeting.

Fili nodded his head gently, a small smile on his face. "Good morning." He called back.

The hobbit eyed the three dwarves carefully, almost as though he hadn't expected the approaching trio to be of a different race. He widened his stance, folding his arms across his chest as though he were ready for an altercation. It wasn't usual for folk to come around this early as it was, and these dwarves certainly didn't hail from the Shire.

Noticing the farmer's change in mood, Fili spoke up. "We have been in communication with you regarding the ponies. Fourteen of them, to be exact." Fili said.

"Ah, yes." The farmer said, nodding to himself. He raised a hand to shield the sun from his eyes. "I just received your letter yesterday mornin'. I'm afraid our messenger didn't get out here when the mail relay had come through. Wasn't expectin' ya until tomorrow or the day after."

"We can turn 'round and come back later if you'd like." Bofur said seriously, though he was very much joking.

Fili gave his friend a side glance as they continued walking toward the farmer. "I'm sorry to have surprised you. But I'm afraid we are in need of the ponies this morning. Are they not ready?" Fili asked.

"Oh no, no. No need to worry. They are all fed and brushed and kept back in the barn. I just meant you startled me is all!" The hobbit said quickly, shaking his head. He wouldn't give the dwarves any reason to back out of this deal - the profit he would make would help to enhance his farm and fix up a few things around the house.

"Why don't you come inside and we can settle the agreement?" The man asked, turning his body to show the dwarves to his front door.

Fili nodded, looking back to Bofur and Nori. "Why don't you two stay out here. We should only be a moment."

Bofur smiled a large smile, nodding in agreement. "Aye."

Nori simply nodded, turning to admire the countryside and the hazy morning sky.

Fili stepped into the small house, warm and rich with the smell of barley and rosemary. There was a small hearth brightly lit in the center of the room where a round table sat, covered in various papers and small objects. To the right was a kitchen, lain out quite similarly to Bilbo's with a sink and window opposite each other. To the left was a hallway where he assumed a bedroom or two and a bathroom sat.

The home was not lavish by any means, in fact, it was rather dull. Tiny trinkets and possessions sat here and there, but it wasn't nearly as decorated or clad in expensive, and rather useless, things as Bilbo's. FIli quickly made the assumption that this farmer worked hard for what he had and didn't quite fit in with the rest of the society in Hobbiton. Perhaps he had fallen on a few hard times, having to sell many possessions to stay afloat. Either way, Fili admired the farmer for his evident determination and devotion to his home.

"My wife just made fresh loaves of bread, would ya like a piece?" The hobbit asked, clearing off some papers on the table and motioning for Fili to sit down.

Fili strode to the table, sitting down and moving his sheathed sword out of the way. "No, thank you. I've already eaten this morning. I do appreciate it." Thorin had stressed the importance of diplomatic personas when conducting business, and so Fili felt the urge to decline the offer though he would have much rather accepted it. As it was, he had eaten breakfast this morning, though it hadn't quite satisfied his appetite.

A rather round woman came shuffling out of the hallway, a handkerchief barely holding back the wall of brown curls on her head. "Please, I insist! At least take some for the road. If it stays in this house any longer I'll either eat my weight in bread or be sick of the smell!" She said, rubbing her stomach.

Fili looked at her with curious eyes and a furrowed brow - was this woman overweight or with child? Was she ill?

"My wife and I are expecting another child, our third." The farmer said with a beaming smile, reaching out to give his wife a kiss on the back of her hand.

Fili smiled warmly, nodding to the woman who brought over a few pieces of the fresh bread to him. "Congratulations. And thank you, I will be happy to share this with my comrades outside."

"I can give you more if you'd like." The woman offered, turning to him with a pleading look.

"Mum, leave the man alone. I'll eat the bread, don't you worry." The farmer said, hushing his wife. He gave Fili an apologetic glance.

"You are no bother, Ma'am." Fili said, shaking his head. "I would gladly take more if you could spare it. Though I don't think your husband will be happy if you give it all away."

"He'll be happy he has a woman to keep his heart and belly full." She retorted. She grabbed two loaves, stuffing them in a burlap sack and tying it shut. "Elios!" She called out. "Elios, get out of bed!"

Fili looked down the hall, expecting to see whomever the woman had been calling for. A small boy nearly an eighth the height of Fili emerged, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He walked into the room, stopping short as he eyed Fili. At first he looked at the dwarf in wonder, not having seen a dwarf up close before. Then his eyes wandered to Fili's sword, tucked out aside the chair in display.

"Elios, take this sack out to the men in the front." The woman said, handing out the bag for her son to take. When he did not move, she uttered once more in a whisper. "Elios!"

The little boy shuffled forward, his upper body seemingly moving faster than his feet beneath him. He analyzed Fili further as he walked, smiling weakly as Fili acknowledged him with a toothy grin.

"And take these too!" His mother added, handing over two slices of bread with butter. "Give them to the men as well. Do not eat them, your breakfast will be ready when you come back in."

He nodded quietly, struggling to hold the bag in one hand and balance the two slices of bread in the other. Fili stood, walking quickly to the front door to hold it open for the small hobbit boy. Elios passed underneath him, looking back at the blond dwarf with the same stare of wonder before turning to Bofur and Nori.

"Now then," the farmer began, brining the attention back to matters at hand, "I have written up a contract per our agreement. Fourteen ponies, saddles, reins, and bits. They have all been properly shoed and brushed; should serve you well for any sort of trip you are engaging in."

Fili nodded, walking back to the table and sitting across from the farmer. "I believe that was our agreement. My uncle shared with me your price - three hundred if I am correct?" Fili asked, looking to the farmer.

"Yes, that is correct." The farmer said, nodding.

"I have the coin promised, plus a surplus for your trouble. I understand coming across such a request placed you in a rather difficult position." Fili said, taking out a sack of gold coins from inside his jacket. He placed the sack on the table, sliding it gently towards the hobbit. "Eight hundred and seventy coin."

The man eyed the bag, blinking in thought. "Any extra money you are offering was not expected. I hadn't put any such notion in the agreement."

Fili waved a hand, smiling at the man. "There is no need for alterations. Please accept the additional coin as a token of appreciation if nothing else."

The farmer said nothing, instead looking down at his lap in disbelief. "May it help you with your ever-growing family." FIli added, hoping to brighten the mood. He hadn't added extra money to make the hobbit feel poorly - the dwarves weren't taking pity on the hobbits, but rather, they were trying to show good faith.

The woman walked over, standing behind her husband and giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you." She said sincerely, looking at Fili with eyes half full of tears.

Fili nodded gently, looking to the farmer as he met Fili's gaze. "Yes. Thank you." He said, reaching up to pat his wife's hand. He let go, reaching to a pen and ink. "Shall we sign this?"

"Aye." Fili said, scooting himself closer to the table.

The farmer signed his name quickly, barely legible on the yellowed parchment. Fili struggled to read the name, looking up to the hobbit in question. "Folios?" He asked.

"Yes." The hobbit said with a nod. "Folios Hillpatch. And this is my wife, Marioth."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." FIli said. "My name is Fili."

"Fili?" The woman asked, pressing for a surname.

Fili paused, his hand poised to begin writing his name. Thorin had expressed great importance over keeping the quest unknown - no one was to know of its existence nor of the presence of such nobility seeking to reclaim Erebor. He had intended to simply sign his first name and homeland on the agreement to avoid this bit of information. No one needed to see the name 'Durin'.

Thinking on his feet, he stuttered out an answer. "Telchara. Fili Telchara."

The woman nodded, not noticing Fili's hesitation. Fili looked back to the agreement in relief, scanning the document before signing his name away on the pre-drawn line. In correlation with the lie he had just established, he signed 'Fili Telchara' in perfect penmanship.

"Perfect!" Folios exclaimed, standing up and extending his hand.

Fili rose to claim it, grasping the hobbit's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Let's get out to the barn. I'll get my oldest to assist us." Folios said, walking out the front door with a lighter step.

Fili grabbed the piece of bread from the table, nodding to Marioth. "Thank you again, Ma'am." He said.

"You are most welcome!" She exclaimed, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. She quickly spat it out, shaking her head at the evident distaste it left.

Fili chuckled, taking a bite of the warm bread himself and joining Bofur and Nori outside the home. They stood with Elios, pointing at various things in a small fenced garden.

At the sound of footsteps, Elios turned around to smile at Fili. "Papa said ta follow me. He went ta go get my sister."

"Alright." Fili said, nodding to the little boy who ran off in the direction of the barn just behind the stone house.

Bofur and Nori smiled after the boy, walking briskly to follow him. Fili smiled as well, though mostly to himself. There were many times he had wished his life away, hoping for a simple life like Folios had. Despite the excitement and eagerness he felt for officially beginning the quest, he held a small regret in his heart. His life would most likely never be this relaxed, this reserved. Once he reached Erebor, he could settle down with someone and start a family but he would always have the duties of a Prince, and one day of a King. Just as well - he could never grow anything as it was and would make a terrible farmer.

They entered the barn, fresh with the smell of hay and manure, and walked to meet Folios and his daughter. Elios seemed to speed up at the sight of his father and sister, sprinting down the dirt floor with renewed step. The hobbits stood at the farthest end, untangling reins from a small pile on a mound of hay. Folios looked up, smiling briefly as Fili, Nori, and Bofur approached.

"If I may introduce my daughter, Murios. My pride and joy, my steady hand and beautiful heart." Folio said, reaching out to stroke his daughter's cheek.

She blushed, looking down at the rein in her hand. "Pa."'

Fili stopped dead in his tracks, quite literally. Disbelief washing over him, the female hobbit who stood before him had auburn hair from her head down to the tops of her feet. Her eyes shone with a greenish intensity, mirroring that of the fields outside. The familiar wave of panic and excitement flushed over him, having been on a constant hunt for a red haired woman nearly all his life. It was as though his mind were going through the motions, analyzing her presence and the possibility that she could be the girl from his dreams without stopping to address the present situation.

Yet, something didn't feel right. For the first time in nearly eighty years, Fili stared at a red headed woman with no interest in wanting to get to know her, withholding from subjecting her presence to outlandish concepts, and a lack of excitement that he had found a potential match to his lost friend. Before him stood a hobbit, beautiful and stout, who happened to have red hair. The occurrence was normal for once, creating an unbalanced sense of understanding within Fili's confused thoughts.

Murios looked up at Fili as Nori and Bofur continued a few steps after him, pausing to look back at the blond themselves. Realizing his body had stopped moving while his mind was racing, Fili looked cautiously at the rancher's daughter. The girl blushed, fidgeting with the untangled rein that now dangled form her hands.

Fili blinked rapidly, looking away from her green gaze. In a flash of intuition, Fili knew this was not his dream friend. He knew instantaneously that none of the women he had ever encountered were her either, all of them having the same physical features. Yet they all seemed to be lacking something, something he never could quite put his foot on. Hayden had it - whatever it was - and he not only knew it but felt it within his bones when he looked at her.

Swallowing in the silence, Fili spoke. "Your daughter is as beautiful as your wife. Luck has certainly fallen upon you."

Folios blushed at this, smiling at his daughter. "I would agree with you on that."

The father and daughter exchanged a knowing glance with one another, picking up the rest of the untangled reins from the hay pile. "Now, let's get you on your way, shall we?" Folios asked, handing some reins to both Bofur and Fili. Murios handed some to Nori.

"If you can spare some time, I would request assistance in transporting the ponies. It may be a difficult task with just us three." Fili said to Folios, looking to Nori and Bofur who nodded and agreed under their breaths.

"Yes." Folios said, glancing to his daughter. "I think we can do that."

They walked around the stables, making sure each pony had reins, stirrups, and saddles that were adjusted and properly fitted. Elios followed Fili, mostly watching his movements and openly admiring his sword. He told Fili which ponies were his favorite, which ones preferred carrots to apples, and which ones had a knack for being stubborn after being ridden for a while. Fili nodded, commenting here and there while he examined each short horse.

Fili noticed each pony's name was carved into a strip of leather around the pommel of the saddle, just below the horn. He made a mental note to remember them all, which would only keep for responsible management of the ponies as well as for a few playful opportunities with the other members of the Company.

When it was verified that the ponies were indeed ready for travel, Folios opened the pens. The ponies stayed put for the most part, a few wandering out into the barn. They were very well behaved, having either been tamed from an early age or having been bred under the care of a good farmer.

"If you all are in agreement, each of us men will take three ponies while my Murios will take two." He looked over to his daughter, winking. "We will get you to your point of departure, wherever that may be. Then you can be on your way."

Fili nodded in agreement, noting Bofur and Nori were in agreement as well. "That seems like a fair plan."

"Are we going to be able to handle that many?" Nori asked. He had been around horses before but wasn't quite sure how the five of them were going to get fourteen ponies up the winding hills of the Shire without a hiccup.

Folios nodded with his brows raised in confidence. "Worked with them all, I have. They're good trail ponies. They'll follow one another without delay."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Bofur exclaimed, causing a giggle to trail through the air from Murios and Elios.

They set out of the barn, one by one, each with three ponies trailing in a line - Murios with two. When Fili had mentioned they were headed back to the Shire and into Hobbiton, Folios hadn't batted an eye. When Fili clarified, however, that they would be returning to their host's home at Bag End, Folios' eyes grew wide. He said nothing, either out of disinterest or respect of business, but Fili found the hobbit's change in posture something of intrigue. Was Bilbo a hobbit that others feared or was he a troublemaker? Fili would have to ask Thorin about their hobbit host when he had time.

Without losing a second, the fourteen ponies wound up and through the stone paths overgrown with weeds and grass, their biped guides spaced evenly between. The inhabitants of Hobbiton were up and about by now, draping wet clothes over wires and tilling garden soil before staring in awe as the pony caravan passed. Small children ran this way and that, admiring the train of ponies that was on display.

They found their way to Bilbo's house easily, though Bofur was sure four separate times that they had passed the trail. Fili and Nori had reassured him twice while Folios informed him they were indeed on the right path, becoming impatient as Bofur's questioning drawled further on.

The five tied the ponies up on the fence, spacing them out along the posts that surrounded Bilbo's garden and home. Folios cautioned that they were blocking the road were any other large caravan to pass through, but Fili assured him that their party would be leaving shortly.

"Good travels to you." Murios said, dipping her head and batting her eyelashes. She had seen the way Fili seemed to stop at the sight of her, inclined to think the dwarf fancied her.

"Thank you." Fili said, reaching out to take her hand and place a quick kiss on the back of it. He understood the hobbit girl assumed too much of him, thinking him a fool in love, but he found he could not forego his mannerisms regarding respect for women. He had even treated the handful of questionable women he had met in taverns this way, insisting they be regarded with respect despite their protesting or adversity to such behavior.

Folios extended his hand, breaking up the interaction all together. "Thank you for your business. But especially, thank you for your kindness." The farmer said.

Fili reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake. "Your kindness is admirable as well. Take care of your family - however large it may grow." Fili added with a chuckle.

The farmer nodded, reaching an arm around his daughter's shoulders to steer her away from the blond dwarf. "I will. Take care on your journey, wherever you are headed." Folios said.

Fili nodded, crossing his arms as the two hobbits returned back down the road. They looked back up the path, Bofur and Nori waving enthusiastically back at them.

"Well..." Fili said with a sigh. Though the task hadn't been too tiring, he was glad to finally be back at Bag End, coincidentally now excited to be leaving it. "Let's get inside and start hauling our packs outside. We will need to assign a pony to everyone, but first let's get our belongings out of the way." He called to Bofur and Nori as he watched Folios and Murios turn the corner.

"Already done!" A light voice called out from somewhere near the front of the hobbit hole.

Nori, Bofur, and Fili turned around at the voice. "Hayden!" Bofur called, walking up the path to meet her near the front gate.

Fili's heart stopped beating for a moment, caught in the beauty that radiated off of Hayden like rays of the golden sun. She had let her hair out of its braid, letting it fall down in millions of curls that seemed to glow beneath the bright morning sky. Her red hair seemed to shine with an angelic quality Fili knew all to well, having dreamt of the very thing for many, many years. The vibrant floral tones of the garden complimented her as well, small insects flying around with renewed vigor in the new day's promise of life.

In an instant Fili was hit with an impact so hard, so real, he felt it in his bones. The girl standing twenty-some feet before him was he one he had chased after, both in sleep and in waking. His heart had suspected his assumptions were true, but seeing her in this new light, in this beautiful appearance, somehow he was even more sure of it. Struck with an unforgivable sense of adoration, all the Prince could do was stand and stare, basking in her warmth.

Nori smiled warmly in her direction, casting a glance at Fili who stood motionless. It was obvious to Nori that the Prince was smitten - he hardly knew how to act around the girl. Looking at him now, he presumed Fili had lost all ability to think.

"Remember to breathe." Nori said, giving Fili a smirk.

Fili blinked rapidly, shifting his gaze away from the pair up the hill; charming Bofur and cheerful Hayden standing with one another on the front steps. Hayden had visibly blushed at one of Bofur's trademark comments, smiling timidly and looking down at her feet. Fili wasn't jealous in the slightest, yet for some reason he felt regret that he had not ran to her. That could have been him near the front door, praising her for getting everyone's belongings outside and sharing excitement that the journey was afoot.

"What?" Fili asked breathlessly. Why would he forget to breathe?

"Nothing." Nori said with a chuckle, turning to walk up the road.

Fili followed, making a point to smooth out his tunic, adjust his sword, and place any fly-away strands of hair behind his ear. He knew Hayden hadn't seen him stuck in a trance but he didn't want to approach her looking like he had just awoken from some sort of self inflicted coma.

She patted Bofur on the arm as he went inside Bilbo's home, smiling to Nori who approached behind. Nori nodded at her, continuing onward into the hobbit hole himself. Her gaze fell to Fili, suddenly becoming void of all color and losing the carefree happiness that had previously been present.

Fili cleared his throat, holding his hands behind his back. He wasn't sure if she was unhappy to see him or just shy, considering the events that had transpired the day prior. This didn't seem likely, however, because she had been so open and talkative with him just this morning. She could have been cautious, not wanting to cause any more arguments or still uneasy with the kiss he had placed upon her hand. Had something transpired while he was gone? Panic quickly filled his head concerning Kili or Thorin, hoping they hadn't mentioned something to her regarding the dreams.

In his worry, he tried to change the subject within his mind, focusing on the present moment. "You must have been working since the moment I left to have moved all of our things outside this fast!" He offered lamely. The comment felt forced, even to him. Still, there was truth to his statement.

"Actually I was helping Dwalin. He had a good start on it before I lent a hand." Hayden said, smiling weakly.

"Ah, I see. We may have enough ponies but it would seem Dwalin would still use you as our pack mule, just as Bofur had warned." Fili said, attempting to keep a straight face. This joking came naturally, and he wondered for a moment if this was the right time or place for it.

"Oh!" Hayden scoffed, smacking him on the arm. "Don't make me get that saddle. I can still use you as my steed." She threatened.

"I'm afraid men and elves ride horses, My Lady. Not us smaller folk." Fili quipped, letting his mouth quirk up in a smile.

Hayden gave him a sincere smile, shaking her head. "Just the same." She retorted, placing her hands on her hips in silent protest.

Fili noticed the small knife attached to her belt, breaking their eye contact. It must have come from Dwalin, at least it looked like a knife the older dwarf had once before.

Hayden followed his gaze, tracing a thumb over the hammered sheath at her hip. "Dwalin gave me this. Temporary protection." She said with a shrug. "That reminds me." She began, looking over her shoulder to the front door. "Kili has your other sword and axe. He's walking around with them until you claim them." She looked over to the mountainous pile of belongings, remembering she had left her things inside. "I still need to get my bag. Otherwise I might forget."

"Allow me." Fili said, walking into the home.

"Fili, you don't need to. I can get it." Hayden said, trailing in after him.

"Is it in your room?" He asked, turning to look to Hayden for the answer. He avoided Nori and Dori who were having a conversation near the coat rack.

"Yes, but I could have..." Hayden began, stopping short of Bombur and Bifur who were making their way out of the front door just as Hayden had come through. Gandalf walked inside immediately after, dipping his head in the doorway with a smile thrown Hayden's way.

Fili made his way to her room, walking as quietly as he could down the hallway. He wasn't sure how Bilbo had slept through the Company's arousal this morning, packing and cooking and meandering about. Either the hobbit needed his sleep or he was simply ignoring all of them. He hoped the latter was not the case; Hayden wouldn't sit too comfortably knowing Bilbo had avoided her altogether.

Her pack was small and light, relatively nothing in comparison to the others' gear. He guessed she had a change of clothes and possibly a book or two packed inside, nothing else. Though he didn't have much to spare, he considered giving her any extra supplies he had on hand, borrowing whatever was needed from Kili as well. When they made a stop in Bree, he could help her supplement with the supplies they would find in the town.

Fili walked back through the home, now void of all dwarves save for the few that were trailing out of the front door. Hayden stood there as well, looking around the front entrance with a remorseful glance.

"Come on, Miss. We're all headed out." Ori said sweetly, smiling to Hayden as he followed Balin and Dwalin out through the front door.

Fili approached, nodding to Hayden and continuing outside with her pack over his shoulder. He must have understood what she was doing, taking one final look, and didn't want to disturb her in the precious moment. No doubt he had experienced a moment or two where he had to say goodbye to someone or something and wasn't quite prepared for it.

Hayden stood for a moment, taking one final look at the small, spacious home that had been her salvation for the past month. She knew she would see it again, though when she was not sure. Glancing into the kitchen she saw her tea kettle perch and handkerchief were still on the table, ready for Bilbo to receive. The kitchen had been cleaned as well, not a plate or cup out of place. She made a point of looking at Bilbo's chair near the fireplace, still covered in blankets and surrounded by books and knick-knacks. They had spent many nights reading there together; that would be one of the things she'd miss the most. She wouldn't doubt that the next time she set foot in this house, the parlor would still look the same.

There was a silence to the house, away from the chatting dwarves and the chirping birds outside the front door. It was as though the dwelling within the side of the hill was returning to itself, calming the air and settling down again. The charm had never left, but perhaps the atmosphere had become too thick, too different. Now it would return to normal once more, allowing Bilbo to gather himself and start anew.

Without letting the thoughts of hesitation and doubt seep into her mind, Hayden turned. Walking down the stone steps towards the awaiting dwarves and ponies, she had never felt so afraid or excited in her entire life.


	13. The First Day and The First Night

A sweet and savory tune wound in through the glass panes of Bilbo's room. Solitary and fleeting, another noise soon joined in as well. The songs piggy-backed off one another, creating a melody that could pass for conversation.

Bilbo blinked his eyes open, one squinting against his soft blanket. " _That is a conversation. The birds are waking up._ " He thought to himself.

He closed his eyes once more, listening to the birds sing their good mornings while his mind whirled around the day ahead. He was hungry, that was certain, and he was positive Hayden would be as well.

There was sure to be bacon, eggs, bread, and plenty of good jam that they could eat but he was in the mood for something special, something he didn't have often. He'd have to get out his mother's old family recipe book to find a meal worth making. He and Hayden deserved it after the day they'd had.

Bilbo's eyes shot open. The previous day had not gone as planned. His house was overrun by gluttonous, impossible dwarves. He and his best friend had been persuaded to consider joining a ridiculous quest after being trampled over, ignored, and taken for fools. His upholstery would no doubt need cleaning and his belongings were everywhere, surely disheveled or broken. And there was certainly not enough food for breakfast this morning.

He sat up suddenly, realizing he hadn't heard a single peep out of any of the dwarves or Hayden. He briefly wondered if Gandalf was still around, resenting the wizard entirely for even showing up on his doorstep yesterday. He had a bone or two to pick with him.

Not bothering to smooth out his untucked tunic or tame his wild curls, the hobbit walked eagerly out into the hallway. The halls rang with silence, bird song filling his room behind him.

"Hello?" Bilbo called out.

No one answered, not even Hayden.

He ran down to her room, swinging the door forcibly open to find it empty. Her bed was made yet things seemed too tidy, as though she had cleaned all of her presence entirely out of the room.

Wanting to make sure she wasn't somewhere else, he ran down to the pantry. If the dwarves were still here, they were most likely raiding what ever was left of his food stores. He just hoped he wouldn't find any of them on the floor looking for crumbs.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo called out into the empty pantry. "Hayden?" He mumbled for good measure.

It was evident that the dwarves were most likely gone. Bilbo continued down the hall, checking his smoking room and extra storage area; he doubted thirteen dwarves, a wizard, and Hayden could fit in one of the small rooms. Still, he had to check.

He spun around, walking down the hall and into the dining room. "Is anyone here?"

Continuing into the kitchen, the scent of bacon, eggs, and seasonings filled the air; they must have cooked recently for the smells to linger so prominently. He would have expected to see food everywhere and dishes scattered throughout the kitchen yet nothing was out of place. In fact, it looked cleaner than it had just yesterday morning, before a dwarf or wizard had set foot in his home.

Bilbo noticed something on the small table, placed directly in the center. He walked over, taking the tea kettle perch in his hands and staring blankly at the note addressed with his name. A tear caught in his throat, realizing that his assumptions were most likely correct: Hayden had chosen to leave.

He set the perch down, briefly admiring the craftsmanship as he picked up the note. He didn't even want to read it, having half a mind to throw it into the fireplace and set it ablaze. Bilbo scolded himself for thinking such a thing.

He read the note swiftly, searching for some clue as to when Hayden would be back or if she would be back at all. Most of her reasoning was lost on him, being overshadowed in the fact that she was, indeed, gone. Hayden had picked thirteen strangers and a trespassing wizard over him. Somehow it seemed all that was physically left of his friend was this note, this small piece of parchment that held so much in a few short paragraphs.

He read through the note once more, reading more about the tea kettle perch and the handkerchief. He was touched that she spent her hard earned money on him. Somehow the thought brought the events from the day before full circle, connecting Maisy with Rollo Boffin and Hayden's encounters with each. The perch was perfect in height, design, and appearance - it was everything he could have wished for. Knowing it was created by Hayden's hands made it all the more perfect.

Feeling lost in the reality of the situation, Bilbo walked over to the sink. He reached for a cup, filling it with water and emptying it in a matter of seconds. He filled it once more, hurriedly drinking every drop and wiping his mouth with the back of his shaking hand. He had half a mind to try and continue with his morning, carry on as though it were a normal day. Except his days had been much more than normal over the past month. For once in his life, breakfast was the least of his worries.

Bilbo took the handkerchief and note and went to sit in the parlor by the fireplace. The dwarves' mile-long contract sat on the footstool, splayed open to the bottom quarter where the signatures of Thorin, Balin, and Hayden were neatly displayed. Bilbo stared at Hayden's name, admiring the beautiful penmanship yet resenting the signature's existence altogether; it stared back up at him with equal resentment, for his name should have been above.

Grunting, Bilbo put a log inside the fireplace, one that Hayden had chopped yesterday, and stirred the hot coals beneath with an iron poker. Plopping himself down, he stared at the embers, willing them to take to the fresh wood and bring forth flames.

Bilbo sat in silence, stewing at Hayden's decision and absence. Initially he tried blaming the entire thing on the dwarves, seeing as Hayden would not have left if they hadn't set foot in his house. If he was really pointing fingers, the dwarves weren't truly at fault - Gandalf was the sole orchestrator of the entire event. Then again, Bilbo had to wonder if Hayden would have left eventually, whenever a chance presented itself.

Bilbo felt his face grow hot with anger. She had given him a new type of life and then took it away, leaving him with two heartfelt gifts. Did they mean anything? Did he mean anything to her? If she truly cared, why would she have left?

He stood abruptly, pacing to the desk near the window. Looking out, he saw a finch on his fence, chirping and twitching this way and that as the world carried on around him. Soon more birds came to join, sitting as though they were invited to a morning gathering.

Bilbo watched the line of birds, blue and brown and cream in shade, thinking it humbling that they could get along with one another despite the obvious difference in species. He heard so many variants of birdsong when working outside or just sitting with his pipe.

In the blink of an eye, the birds flew off into the blue morning. The feeling of admiration left with them, giving Bilbo an empty weight in his heart. He stared blankly at the fence, his mind looming over Hayden once more. He sucked in a breath, thinking back to something Hayden had written in her note.

 _"I don't want to waste any more of my life thinking or wishing about what might have been."_

If the situation were reversed, he was sure she would give him an encouraging push on his way, supporting his decision and rejoicing that he was out living his life instead of wishing he was. Bilbo ripped his eyes from the window, upset with himself for having harbored such hateful feelings towards Hayden.

His eyes landed once more on the contract, open and ready for his signature. A strange, twisting knot emerged in his stomach. He could sign it. He could go on the quest with Hayden. Never mind the dwarves or Gandalf - he would make amends with them later - it was Hayden who truly mattered. He didn't want to have to make amends with her when he could be off making memories instead.

Falling into his chair once more, he sighed. "I can't go off on some quest. I have a home to look after and..." Bilbo said, trailing off as he began to bite his nail. "I just can't."

With another heavy sigh he shifted in his chair, letting his head fall into his hands. Bilbo glanced at the fireplace, the coals smoking from beneath the fresh piece of wood yet no flames were licking upward. He slouched back, defeated, wondering if anything was going to play out right.

Bilbo picked up Hayden's note and smoothed out the parchment on his thigh, lovingly wanting to preserve his friend's goodbyes. Glancing down the page, his eyes stopped on one sentence.

 _"I realized that the first step in finding what I need deep inside is to go looking for it; if I am to go looking for it, I may as well go on an adventure."_

Perhaps it was the carefree, determined attitude Hayden had. Perhaps it was how she used the word 'adventure'. Whatever it was, Bilbo suddenly felt more inclined to walk out his door rather than sit around and wait for someone to come knocking.

The dwarves certainly wouldn't leave her behind; they may have been inconsiderate but they weren't heartless. Still, someone should be there to directly look after Hayden. She hadn't set foot outside of the Shire and if he had anything to do with it, she would be coming back in one piece sooner rather than later.

Bilbo shook his head. He was no warrior or wilderness expert. He couldn't defend his friend or confidently guide her around Middle-Earth. Still, his presence would only safeguard her. He was small; he couldn't really get in the way, could he?

So what if he didn't have any real reason to leave? Neither had Hayden and that hadn't stopped her. A touch of recklessness was what he needed. He was his mother's son, after all.

With a nod toward his mother's portrait, he sprouted up from the chair and dashed over to the desk for a pen and ink. His signature didn't have to be perfect, simply legible. Bilbo briefly feared that the dwarves' wouldn't accept his signature, thinking him inadequate for the job. Then again, they wouldn't have left the contract if they hadn't hoped he'd reconsider.

Bilbo signed his name, not giving in to the fear and the worry that began to overcome his mind. It didn't matter if he wasn't a burglar, it didn't matter that he had never been on an adventure, and it didn't matter that he would be abandoning his home for who knows how long. All that mattered was he would be with his friend and he would be following his heart, as un-hobbitish as that might have been.

He dressed swiftly, putting on a fresh linen shirt and tucking it into a pair of his nice brown trousers. He picked out an earthy green vest, one he seldom wore, and buttoned it up the front. Barely giving himself time to over think about what belongings to bring, Bilbo stuffed a pack with two changes of clothes, a bar of his sage and lemongrass soap, the nearest book he could find, and one of his older quilts from the bottom of a misshapen blanket pile. He had half a mind to bring one of his pillows along but ignored the urge; he was certain the wilderness would linger for eternity on the feather filled piece of luxury.

Grabbing his burgundy jacket, he slipped his arms through the velvety sleeves as he ran around the house one last time, ensuring the coals were indeed cold and the doors and windows were all latched. Circling back to the front door, he grabbed the contract and swung his bag over his back.

Bilbo opened the front door, smelling the wood and smiling at the fresh paint. His home would fair well without him, though there would be a fair amount of tidying when he returned. House chores would be the least of his worries on the road. In fact, he wouldn't have to worry about any of the civilized, demanding things that came with being a respectable hobbit. No parties to attend, no goods to buy on a whim, no neighbors to please. In a way, Bilbo felt as though he was running away from his responsibilities, his restraints.

And so he did just that. He ran out the door.

* * *

"Which pony am I on, again?" Gloin asked, looking behind to Nori and then up to Thorin, who rode dauntingly in the lead of the pony trail behind Gandalf.

"Kipper." Nori said, nodding his head enthusiastically, though his brows shot up in question.

"No," retorted Ori. "Kili's on Kipper."

"Why is Kili on Kipper? Seems like a poor play of names, if you ask me. Too much of a tongue twister." Bombur chimed in.

"Kipper was named after the skipping tendency he has; the farmer's son informed me that in an open field, the pony likes to prance around as though the Earth is hot underneath his hooves. He said that was the pony's way of showing off, flamboyant and stubborn at heart." Fili said with a chuckle.

"Aye, that sounds like Kili." Dwalin called out, generating a ripple of laughs and wheezes from the group.

Kili scowled, giving his brother a side glance. "I'll have all of you know that I do no such thing. You won't catch me prancing or skipping about, I _assure_ you." Kili commented, attempting to emphasize his masculinity.

"Except when in the company of women." Fili retorted cheekily.

Kili swung at his brother, missing entirely but cursing him out all the same. "You bastard!"

"Oh, come on, Kili. We've all seen you." Fili said, steering his pony away from Kili. He swung wide, breaking up the steady trail of ponies that made their way through the forest. "Flaunting yourself around taverns and gatherings is just the dwarvish equivalent of a pony prancing in a field." Fili added through the trees, finally rejoining the entourage.

The trail of ponies became a line of laughter once more, thick and deep chuckles echoing in the tall branches of the trees. Kili silently mimicked his brother's words, rolling his eyes and giving Kipper a small pat on the neck.

Hayden laughed, watching the interaction from her position behind the brothers. She watched as Kili's ears began to emit steam, his anger becoming apparent in his posture as a foul and testy mood filled the air. She looked over to Bofur trotting next to her and raised her brows in question. Bofur simply shrugged, looking on as if nothing had happened.

Attempting to change the focus of things, Hayden spoke up. "What's your pony's name, then, Fili?" She asked in a slightly sassy tone; she already knew the name, having asked it when she was assigned her own pony.

As though he were ignoring the world, Fili stayed quiet, riding along with his head cast down into his lap. A few other dwarves turned around in their saddles, unsure as to why Fili hadn't responded.

Fili looked up, glancing to Kili, before focusing his eyes straight ahead. "Daisy." He admitted quietly.

" _HA!_ " Kili blurt out, pointing over at his brother and laughing openly. "Daisy! And yours is a male!" He continued, smiling in disbelief. "If that's not the most feminine name I have ever heard, then I'm not a descendent of Durin the Deathless." Kili added, laughing from his belly like a child.

The group began laughing once more at the brothers, Bombur and Bofur letting out hoots of disbelief. Fili even began to chuckle, shaking his head at the turn of events.

After the Company had calmed down, silence filled the air once more. It was only a few minutes until Gloin spoke up, sighing heavily. "I still don't know what pony I'm on."

There was another round of laughs and comments, Gloin chuckling at the silliness of everything yet determined to get an answer. He loved animals, enjoying the task of caring for them and understanding them as best as he could. Though the pony couldn't speak, he most likely recognized the sound of his name, so why not use it?

"You're riding Briarcut." Fili called out.

"I suppose she earned that name getting cut by briar thorns, eh?" Gloin asked, patting his pony's neck gently.

"Aye. The little lad informed me she finds herself in sticky situations due to her curious nature." Fili answered with a chuckle.

"Adventurous little beauty, aren't we? So long as you don't leave me behind on one of your escapades." Gloin murmured to Briarcut, lovingly stroking her fuzzy ears.

Though a handful of the dwarves could have sought out Gloin's affection as a point of harmless ridicule, most of them simply smiled to themselves. Somehow there was something more touching, perhaps fatherly, that radiated from Gloin's kindness. There wasn't a dwarf in the Company who wasn't fond of animals and the connections that could blossom with them.

The dwarves had been assigned to their respective ponies mainly by height, Fili taking care to distribute packs and supplies to the right ponies so that every one would have access to their things. He had been slightly selfish with Daisy, choosing the pony out of pure admiration and personal preference.

The Company had carried along in silence, pressing further into the outskirts of the Old Forest that lay East of Hobbiton. Insects had come out, rejoicing in the warmth the morning sun had returned to the ground. Birds jumped this way and that out of trees, seeking food for their young and singing songs of warning at the Company's passing, though the beautiful tune hardly sounded like a siren.

Hayden glanced down to the pommel of her saddle, tracing the name with her index finger. Myrtle was a beautiful name for any creature, yet one way or another she had always thought of the name belonging to an elderly frail woman. This pony was nothing of the sort, but perhaps she held the same type of maturity and grace that older women seemed to carry with them. Then again, elderly folk had a tendency to be feverishly stubborn.

"Bofur." Hayden said quietly.

Bofur turned his head enthusiastically, his chivalrous smile bright as ever. "Yes, lass?"

"What are all the ponies names?" Hayden asked.

"Well, let's have a look. I'm on Minty and you're on..." Bofur said, leaving an open ended question hanging in the air.

"Myrtle." Hayden offered.

"Myrtle. What a beautiful name. Gloin is on Briarcut, Fili is astride Daisy, and Kili is riding Kipper." Bofur said again, nodding to himself. He bit his lip nervously, scrunching his nose up. "You know, lass, I'm afraid I didn't pay much attention to all the names."

Hayden shook her head with a smile. Fili undoubtedly knew them all yet she found herself wanting to remain quiet if she could. It wasn't that she expected Fili to be angry that she had brought up his pony's name and turned the tables with Kili, she just felt a sense of trepidation; opening up conversation amidst such silence suddenly seemed daunting in a group of men. She had no reason to think the dwarves chauvinist or small minded yet she noticed how out of place she felt, at least with initiating conversation. Aside from Bilbo and the small conversations presented to her over the past couple of days, she hadn't initiated anything with another living soul in this new life.

She tried to ignore the thoughts regarding her discomfort with people due to her recent seclusion from them - she couldn't hide behind that excuse forever. Still, leaving the only home she had ever known in Middle-Earth with fourteen strangers was a big step in itself. If someone else asked for the ponies names, she would show interest. Otherwise she'd just have to make a point of going around and reading all the pommels.

"Oy, Fili!" Bofur called, breaking the chain of silent dwarves.

Fili turned his head, acknowledging Bofur's request to talk, and steered Daisy around so she trotted swiftly but gently back to where he and Hayden rode side by side.

"What troubles you, dear Bofur?" Fili asked with a smile.

"The lass has asked me for the names of the ponies and I've found that I don't know them." Bofur replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You assisted in retrieving them this morning." Fili said with a chuckle of disbelief.

"Aye, so did Nori but he didn't know which one Gloin is astride." Bofur replied. He gave Hayden a small wink.

Fili smiled broadly, reaching out a hand to pat Daisy's neck. "I'm on Daisy, Kili's on Kipper, and Gloin is -"

"Yes, yes. We know those ones. I'm on Minty and Miss Telchara is on Myrtle. The others?" Bofur asked, waving a hand theatrically out in the air as if to count the ponies.

Fili gave Bofur an open mouthed stare, shaking his head at the dwarf's comical nature. "Right, Thorin is riding Scorch, named for the blazing color you see as she runs past you; she likes to lead and she loves to run." Fili began. Thorin tilted his head up either with pride in his pony's reputation or to gain a better angle for hearing.

"Dwalin is on Moonfoot, brother to Sunfoot who is Bombur's pony." Fili continued.

"Are they named after their colors?" Hayden asked.

Fili turned his mouth into a slight frown, looking off into the distance. "You know, I'm not sure I remember; I just recall they are brothers. It would make sense seeing as Moonfoot is blindingly white and Sunfoot is a brilliant ginger red."

"Just like Miss Hayden's hair." Ori piped up, smiling sweetly from behind the three in conversation.

Hayden smiled back at him, blushing slightly at the comment. She had recognized Ori's good heart upon meeting him yet she had forgotten how outwardly kind he was; he didn't have the same rough appearance as the other dwarves.

"Ori is riding Wolveon. Named for his valiant nature and brave chance encounter with a wolf." Fili said, smiling back at Ori as he swiveled slightly in his saddle. "Nori is on Quash, an overly loving yet picky eater. Who, as obvious as it may be, was named after her reputation for smashing squash during fall harvest." Fili continued.

"You mean to tell me Quash is a squasher of squash?" Kili asked, his brows raised ferociously.

The line of dwarves chuckled, Balin and Dori shaking their heads at the foolish comments that tended to come out of Kili's mouth, though they enjoyed the play on words just as much as everyone else.

Fili gave Kili a pointed stare through his sarcastic smile. "Yes." He turned in his saddle once more, looking over to Oin. "Oin is riding Bron, named so for his muscular build and perseverant nature. Dori has Bowart, a more reserved male with a good sense of direction - I honestly can't remember what his name comes from."

"Judging by the way the other ponies are named, he probably has warts somewhere." Kili said, scoffing and turning up his nose at the thought of a warty pony.

"My pony does not have warts!" Dori called loudly, scoffing at the insinuation.

"Balin is riding Fanul, a patient and steady male who has an obsession with blackberries." Fili continued, attempting to push aside Kili's comment.

Bifur turned sharply in his saddle, speaking to Fili in Khuzdul.

"You're riding Bungo. I thought you would do well with him - he's very sensitive to physical commands. I doubt Khuzdul is something these ponies would understand."

"I'm failing to _understand_ the point in all of this. Are we going to play games and blabber all the way to Erebor? I think not." Thorin said sharply.

The line continued to move but seemed to halt in morale; no one wanted to get on Thorin's bad side and he was already miffed at getting a later start than originally planned. If it had gone Thorin's way, they would have left in the middle of the night before the sun even rose. Even then, the King knew both he and his Company needed a good night's rest; it would be hard to come by as frequently on the road.

Hayden noticed Thorin and Gandalf speaking to one another out of earshot. Suddenly noticing how large Gandalf was sitting atop his horse, his long legs falling down on either side of the saddle. The ponies were miniature in comparison, their heads barely scraping the horse's shoulder and much more fluffy in appearance; the horse seemed sleek and lean while the ponies looked plush and pudgy. Hayden knew this was just a matter of appearance and had no actual reflection of the pony's ability or inability. Still, seeing the wizard outside of the encroaching ceilings of Bag End was surprising. Hayden hadn't expected the difference in size to be so drastic; did that mean she had really shrunk?

"Is everything alright?" Fili asked Hayden, whispering to maintain the quiet mood that had reclaimed the Company.

Hayden blinked, looking back at Fili. "What?"

"Are you well? You look as though you've just experienced something unimaginable." He asked again, brows slightly furrowed.

"Yes, I just realized -" Hayden began. She couldn't confess she hadn't considered the size difference between other races and other beings; as far as the Company knew, she had lived in Middle-Earth her entire life. Thinking on her feet, she made up an excuse, albeit a valid one. "I realized you left out the name of the horse Gandalf is riding."

Fili looked up to Gandalf and Thorin, still chattering quietly away. "I'm afraid I don't know his horse's name."

Hayden nodded, looking back up to the wizard as well. His size and stature were truly daunting but she would just have to get used to it; he wasn't likely to shrink any time soon and she wasn't going to grow any taller. This wasn't Wonderland and her name wasn't Alice.

* * *

Conversation picked back up gradually, most of the dwarves talking about their breakfast and wishing they had eaten more for the journey. This led to talk of Bilbo and his vast storehouse of foods; none of the dwarves had expected so much food to be hidden inside such a small home.

"Aye the food was hearty and good. But, nevertheless, we gained our strength and lost our burglar." Balin said, shaking his head.

"I said it. Didn't I say it?" Dori said imploringly, turning to Bombur and Oin.

The group of dwarves murmured agreements with annoyance, not wanting to think about the opportunity Bilbo passed off or the difficulties that may lie ahead without him. Hayden pursed her lips together, understanding the Company's frustrations yet not wanting the conversation to turn sour regarding her friend.

"It was a waste of time!" Dori reiterated.

"That's true enough!" Dwalin shouted, giving Thorin a side glance.

"Ridiculous." Gloin commented, shaking his head.

"Use a hobbit - why would anyone suggest such a thing?" Kili asked theatrically, looking back to Fili and Bofur for an answer.

"Whose idea was it, anyway?" Piped Nori, looking over to Oin who simply shrugged.

"Wait!" A voice called from the distance. It was shrill and quick yet urgent.

The line of ponies started to slow, everyone looking around their shoulders to see who or what was approaching.

"Fili." Thorin whipped his head around to look at his nephew. "Did you settle everything with the farmer?" He asked hoarsely.

Fili nodded urgently. "Of course." Though his uncle was just covering their bases, Fili was slightly offended that his uncle would think him so forgetful. Especially since the arrangement of ponies for the quest had been entirely under Fili's control.

"Wait!" The voice called again, though louder and closer in proximity.

To Hayden's disbelief, Bilbo came emerging from the trees, his knees bouncing up and down faster than a rabbit as he ran towards them.

"Whoa." Gandalf called out, causing the dwarves to begin halting their ponies as well. The wizard looked surprised yet there was a twinkle in his eye, indicating he suspected this from the hobbit.

Myrtle slowed to a standstill as Hayden watched Bilbo running, a beaming smile on his face. Bofur, FIli, and Kili stopped as well, parting so that Balin could continue up towards the front of the line where Bilbo was headed.

"Did you know he would turn up?" Bofur asked Hayden quietly, a grin slowly spreading underneath his mustache.

"No." Hayden breathed out, excited and visibly shocked at Bilbo's change of heart.

Thorin turned Scorch around so that she faced westerly, looking back at the line and, more importantly, Bilbo. His eyes were downcast, causing Hayden to panic as she glanced at the King. Yet he remained silent, watching as the scene played out in front of him.

"I signed it!" Bilbo said, out of breath but proud. He held the contract out aimlessly, unsure as to who needed it.

Balin motioned him forward, taking the contract and inspecting the signature immediately. He looked back at Bilbo with a questioning glance, almost as if he didn't believe the signature was the hobbit's at all, before taking out his spectacles to inspect the parchment.

"What's wrong?" Hayden whispered. "Does he think the signature is fake?"

Fili and Kili glanced at the girl, not wanting to miss what Balin had to say. Hayden looked to Bofur, thinking that the brother's silence must have meant forgery was plausible. Bofur simply shook his head with a smile.

Bilbo looked up and down the line, stopping once his eyes met Hayden's. Smiling excitedly, he seemed to puff up his chest a bit with a boost of confidence.

"Everything appears to be in order." Balin finally stated, folding up the contract swiftly. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Hayden let out a giggle, covering her mouth with one hand as she watched her dear friend accept his place in the Company with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. The dwarves laughed and commented encouraging words, something Hayden was not expecting given their attitudes minutes prior. She even noticed Gandalf smiling, nodding to himself.

As though the giddy moment were too much for Thorin, he broke the cheerful murmurs with a bark. "Give him a pony."

"No, no, no, no, that - that won't be necessary, thank you." Biblo retorted, spinning on his heel to address Thorin. "But I - I'm sure I can keep up on foot." He added in an effort to show he could take care of himself.

"You can't walk!" Hayden called with disbelief.

Bilbo ignored his friend, stepping as Thorin led the Company down the road. "I - I - I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once."

"Bofur." Fili said, nodding his head toward Bilbo as he guided Daisy toward the hobbit.

Bofur caught on immediately, reaching over to grab Myrtle's reins and follow Fili as the prince trotted up to the hobbit.

"What are you doing?" Hayden asked, confused as to what he and Fili were scheming.

"Just a moment, lass." Bofur said. "Scoot forward a tad."

Hayden did as she was told, wondering if they were intending to put Bilbo with her on Myrtle. Fili grabbed Bilbo by his pack, setting him behind Hayden in a swift motion just as Bofur led Myrtle to Daisy's side.

"Come on, Nori, pay up. Go on." Oin shouted from Bron.

Nori shuffled around in his jacket, pulling out a small pouch and flinging it to the old dwarf.

"Hey!" Oin shouted with a laugh.

Another pouch flew through the air, from the front of the line, landing in Bombur's outstretched hand. More sacks began to be exchanged, flying around Hayden and Bilbo who half expected to be hit in the face. Fili caught a pouch himself, glancing over to Bilbo and Hayden before giving his pouting brother a devilish grin.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asked loudly, hoping someone would answer.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up." Gandalf answered, his voice booming out of nowhere.

Bilbo and Hayden exchanged a startled glance; wasn't the wizard just at the front of the caravan?

"Most of them bet that you wouldn't." The wizard added, raising his eyebrows with his admission.

"And what did you think?" Bilbo asked.

This wizard simply grunted, running his tongue across his teeth as though he were in deep thought. He lifted his arm quickly up, catching a sack of coins that nearly flew past him. Hayden briefly noted that his apparent age had no affect on his reflexes; she wasn't sure she could catch something so fast and unexpectedly.

"My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second." Gandalf said with a laugh, tucking the coins away in his satchel. "That's precisely why I selected you for this task."

"Yes. About that, Gandalf, I -" Bilbo began before a violent sneeze cut off his sentence. "Oh, all this horse hair; I'm having a reaction." Bilbo added, frantically wiping at his now running nose with one hand. He attempting using the other to search his pockets but gave up, clutching to Hayden's shirt. "Could you -" Bilbo began.

Hayden reached around with one hand, awkwardly holding onto Bilbo's torso so he would feel more stable. "Thank you." Bilbo muttered, his voice nasally. He continued searching himself, digging in every pocket he could think of.

Snapping his head up, Bilbo sucked in a breath of air. "I've left it."

"Left what?" Hayden asked, turning in the saddle to take a look at her friend. Bilbo's eyes grew wide, and he pushed her shoulders back to face forward. She needed to keep her eyes on the pony.

"No, no, wait, wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around." Bilbo exclaimed.

The entire company slowed to a halt, groans and objections flying through the air.

Gandalf clutched his staff tightly. "What on earth is the matter?"

"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo said, biting his lip and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Durin's blood." Dwalin mumbled, steering his pony back towards the direction they had been headed in. Thorin seemed to agree, barely having stopped in the first place.

"Here!" Bofur exclaimed, ripping a piece of fabric from his own tunic. "Use this."

Bilbo caught the piece of fabric gingerly, surprised that the dwarf was being so generous. Upon smelling the piece of cloth, however, Bilbo immediately regretted catching the thing.

The dwarves began to laugh openly at Bilbo's disgust, Bofur even chuckling to himself.

"Move on." Thorin called flatly.

Fili wiped the smile off of his face, shaking his head and pressing his heels into Daisy so she caught up with his uncle at the head of the line. He knew Thorin had thin patience as it were, and he had already commented regarding the group's unnecessary merriment.

"You'll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end." Gandalf began, giving Bilbo a small smile. Bilbo simply stuffed the makeshift handkerchief in his pocket, eyes shifting with embarrassment.

"You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you; the world is ahead." Gandalf added, admiring his dear friend as though he were admiring a babe in a crib.

Bilbo ignored the wizard, instead staring at his knee in contemplation. That handkerchief was something he treasured instantly, understanding and appreciating the love that went into each stitch. He had wanted to take it with him not only as a reminder of home but as a reminder of his friendship, of the one thing he wished to keep steady in his life.

Giving Hayden a wink, Gandalf strode back up to Thorin's side. Hayden sensed an uneasiness in the air, radiating off of Bilbo as he sat quietly behind her.

"Bilbo, it's just a handkerchief." Hayden said, turning to give him a half smile.

"Yes, but it wasn't just any handkerchief. It was your handkerchief. The one you had made for me." Bilbo said. His voice was quick and flat, as though he were trying to downplay the situation.

"Oh, Bilbo." Hayden said. "I'm glad you liked it. But just think of how dirty and torn it could get. At least you'll have it waiting for you when you get home."

"Yes." Bilbo said shortly in agreement. He didn't want to waste time trying to explain how he fought with himself over going on the quest and what the handkerchief symbolized; he feared his over analysis would only cause more unwanted attention from the dwarves if they happened to overhear.

"I left my best arrows at home. I only had three - smelt from iron and silver, they were!" Kili piped up, turning Kipper around so he was placed directly next to Hayden and Bilbo. Hayden gave him a small smile, her eyebrows piping up to show her enthusiasm.

Kili ignored Bilbo's lack of attention. "They're a lot heavier than the ones I'm used to, so I suppose I need more practice with them."

Hayden nodded. "That seems logical."

"I was expecting to get that practice in on the road but Fili pointed out that Thorin wouldn't want any of us expanding our skills from scratch while on a quest. I agreed, naturally," Kili continued with an eye roll, "but I still planned on sneaking them in my pack. I arose so suddenly the morn' we left, I completely forgot to smuggle them with me."

"Well, that is unfortunate." Bilbo said with a small nod. He recognized the young dwarf's attempt at sympathy, giving Kili a brief smile.

"Aye." Kili nodded. "I don't see how bringing them would have hurt; my brother carries around an arsenal with him everywhere he goes. I'm almost positive he picks up a new knife in every town we pass through, if not something larger."

"Really?" Bilbo asked, his lips curled in a line of disbelief.

Kili's eyes grew wide with seriousness as he slowly nodded his head.

"But where does he keep it all?" Bilbo asked loudly, looking up toward Fili at the front of the line. "I can't even see a single weapon on him."

Kili shrugged wildly. "If you can give me the answer to that, I will turn this pony around and go back to the Shire myself to fetch your handkerchief."

Hayden laughed. "I would love to see that."

"I offer the same deal to you, my lady." Kili said with a sharp grin.

"Thank you, but I didn't leave a handkerchief behind." Hayden said, twitching her mouth into a side smile.

Kili poked his tongue in his cheek. "Then I suppose I'll owe you a favor."

"A favor?" Hayden gasped, placing a hand over her mouth in mock excitement.

"Yes, a favor. And a favor from a dwarf is hard to come by, especially one offered from one of royalty." Kili said with his head held high.

"Idribtu! Tada allâkhul haga." Bifur exclaimed, shaking his head from the back of the group.

Kili's smile fell from his face as he glanced sideways at Hayden. "I may have exaggerated a bit. Though I _am_ royalty," he added, glancing back at Bifur, "a favor is a favor. No matter if it is given out by a hobbit, a human, or a dwarf."

Hayden stared at Kili, a small smile on her face. She looked back to Bilbo who simply shrugged, not entirely dismissing the offer but not completely eager for a wager, even if it were a game. "We're in." Hayden said.

"Excellent!" Kili exclaimed, extending his hand out. Hayden took it, grasping firmly.

"Excuse me, 'we'?" Bilbo said as he leaned forward. Kili extended his hand to Bilbo. Bilbo took it, much to his surprise.

"Yes, 'we' are going to take Kili up on his bet. Which, by the way, you haven't stated what is to happen if we lose." Hayden said, giving Kili a pointed look.

"Does it matter? You're going to lose as it is. No one can figure out how he stays so heavily armed." Kili said with a knowing glance. "I'm going to extend the offer, make some real fun out of this."

Hayden rolled her eyes as Kili rode up through the line with a cheerful grin.

"So, Hayden. Why exactly are we making a bet with a dwarf?" Bilbo whispered.

"Oh, it's just good fun." Hayden answered. "Plus, it's a good excuse to acquaint ourselves with the others, don't you think?" She added in a whisper.

"I suppose so." Bilbo answered. He tightened his grip on Hayden, trying not to over think his decision to come parading around in the wilderness with thirteen dwarves. His friend may have had the spontaneity he lacked, but he couldn't help but worry he had made a horrible choice.

* * *

The Company had stopped for snacks, everyone taking the chance to stretch their legs and secure their packs. Hayden and Bilbo had helped as best they could, unsure as to where the supplies were and what they could contribute to the food effort. They mostly stayed out of the way, ready to assist if they could but all too eager to stay back.

Handing out a couple pieces of a type of pork jerky, Gloin hobbled over to Hayden. "I believe your pony needs a break from the extra weight. The hobbit may ride with me or Kili as we have the lighter loads." He said cheerily.

Bilbo shook his head. "I don't need to ride with anyone, thank you. Hayden and I can ride another pony."

"There is no other pony." Gloin said, taking a rough bite of his pork. "Not one that any of us are willing to part with, that is."

Bilbo took his piece of meat, eyes wide. He certainly didn't want to ride with another dwarf, especially Kili. It would be awkward and he would be more afraid of the young dwarf rather than of the pony; the dwarf was more likely to pull a stunt. Gloin would do no such thing, however he doubted the older dwarf would be patient with his lack of knowledge concerning ponies and traveling. Hayden at least would understand his fear rather than amplify it.

"He's right Bilbo. There's no need to get the ponies and their riders all mixed up when they're getting used to one another. Why don't you ride Myrtle by yourself and I'll ride with one of the dwarves?" Hayden asked, nodding to Gloin in thanks for the jerky.

Gloin smiled widely. "That sounds wonderful, Miss. It's settled." He turned and walked away, ready to distribute more pieces of jerky.

"Hayden. I can't ride a pony." Bilbo whispered. He brought the jerky up to his lips to take a bite but stared at his friend with anxiety.

Hayden swallowed swiftly. "What?" She asked with brows high.

"Yes, I can't ride. I won't. That's that." Bilbo said fast and flat, averting his gaze and taking a bite of his meat.

"Bilbo." Hayden said, lowering her voice. "If you've come out here only to be discouraged by riding a pony then I think you made the wrong decision."

He looked down into his lap, silently nodding after a moment. She was right, but he needn't carry on that conversation. Not in the presence of the Company.

"You live in a world where transportation is dependent on horses and ponies and you can't ride?" Hayden asked, still astonished.

Bilbo shook his head. "I can't. Never truly had a reason to."

Hayden bit her lip. "I'll teach you. Fast." She took a few steps towards Myrtle.

Bilbo stood and shuffled behind, tucking his jerky in his jacket pocket.

"Riding is much more personal; you steer with more than just the reigns." Hayden began. She motioned for Bilbo to mount Myrtle, offering up her hands as a step for the hobbit.

Bilbo sighed heavily and furrowed his brow, climbing up onto the beast reluctantly. Surprisingly he sat well, balanced and upright. Yet he felt so out of place, as though if he took a breath too deep he might slide right out of the saddle.

"Use your body, your movements." Hayden began. She leaned right and then left, emphasizing how Bilbo needed to move. "She will feel when you lean and lead with the reigns in your hands." Hayden continued.

Bilbo pulled sharply on the reigns, pulling Myrtles head to the right.

"Don't be too rough!" Hayden said, placing a loving hand on the pony's neck. "You want to keep a firm grip but you don't need to force anything upon her with the reigns."

Bilbo relaxed his arms, nodding swiftly. "Right."

"Now, the same rule applies to getting her to move faster. Gentleness is the key. Click your heels into her side to let her know you want to pick up the pace."

Bilbo wrinkled his nose. "Won't that hurt her?"

Hayden smiled, shaking her head. "No, not as long as you don't outright kick her."

"I don't know, I wouldn't very much like if someone kicked me." Bilbo retorted.

"Let's move along!" Dwalin called.

The Company rallied and remounted, gathering their things and setting out for the trail once more. Hayden turned on her heel, heading to Gloin.

"W-wait, I'm not ready. There must be more, I - " Bilbo cried out.

"You'll be just fine, Bilbo. Breathe." Hayden called out, waving a hand in the air.

"Hayden!" Kili called.

She turned to glance behind her, walking swiftly to catch up to Gloin who had now begun a trot behind Nori.

"Have a seat on Kipper, won't ye?" Kili said, patting the vacant space on the saddle behind him.

"On the finest pony in these woods?" Hayden asked in a tone laced with sarcasm. "Of course I will."

And so, with Bilbo astride Myrtle and Hayden riding with Kili, the Company continued their trek towards Bree. As expected, Thorin and Gandalf lead the bunch while Bungo and Bowart trailed along near the back of the group, carrying extra supplies and goods along with their riders, Bifur and Dori.

* * *

The sun had lowered in the sky, sending fleeting bursts of orange and pink into the cloudy atmosphere. Hayden had ridden with Kili for a while, switching to travel with Gloin for a bit and now sat behind the young dwarf once more. With only a few breaks along the road, the Company was inching closer and closer to Bree. It seemed they would spend the night on the trail - a thought that was uncomfortable to Bilbo, almost as much so as riding a pony.

Thinking about having to sleep in the wilderness on the ground, Bilbo tensed in the saddle. Either sensing the hobbits discomfort or feeling a change in pressure from his feet, Myrtle began trotting up to the front of the line.

"May I help you, halfling?" Thorin growled.

Bilbo gulped, licking his dry lips. "No, no. My pony is the one who came up here on her own accord. I believe there was a squirrel or rabbit that scurried past her feet just back there." Bilbo had no idea if this were true but didn't want Thorin thinking he couldn't control his pony and therefore didn't belong in the Company.

"So your mount is skittish." Thorin said. "Much like her rider."

Bilbo smiled weakly, holding the reigns up in the air, practically over his head, to try and steer Myrtle out of Thorin's way.

Thorin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Can't even ride a pony." Thorin murmured under his breath.

"Pardon?" Bilbo asked. He hadn't heard the King's remark in his effort to move out of the way.

With a heavy sigh, Thorin turned in his saddle. "You can start by holding the reigns correctly."

"Oh, well I..." Bilbo slid the reigns in his hands, leaning drastically forward to position them closer to Myrtle's ears.

Dwalin let out a booming laugh. "You plan to steer with 'er ears?" He asked, laughing heartily at the hobbit with a slap on the thigh.

Bilbo dropped his hands, barely pinching the reigns between his index fingers and thumbs, as though the rope stung his skin.

"It is rope, hobbit." Thorin chuckled, his tone of voice slightly humorous. "It won't bite you."

Bilbo let out a nervous chuckle, dropping the rope entirely. Thorin shook his head, kicking his heels into Scorch. Dwalin followed, mumbling something about steering a pony by the ears.

"Lad." Bofur called from Bilbo's right.

Bilbo glanced over. Bofur lifted his reigns in emphasis. "Like so."

Bilbo examined how Bofur held the reigns, near the pony's neck but with his arms resting near his own stomach. The hobbit copied this, though his stance was quite stiff.

"Aye." Bofur said with a smile, trotting ahead. "Now give her a gentle nudge and she'll follow along."

Bilbo did as he was told, not wanting to hurt Myrtle but knowing that he had to dig his heels in enough for her to know what he wanted. She began trotting nicely, scaring the hobbit entirely.

Hayden and Kili rode up swiftly on Bilbo's left, Fili popping in on his right shortly after.

"Bilbo! You've been doing well." Kili commented with a bright smile.

Bilbo sucked in air, letting it out swiftly with a nod. He didn't dare take his eyes off the road ahead of him - he might fall off or steer the pony into a tree.

"Breathe. You're doing great. Just remember what I told you about leaning and leading. She's not going to jump off a cliff - she want's to live too, you know." Hayden said.

"Cliffs? No one mentioned anything about cliffs." Bilbo exclaimed, daring a look over at his friend before locking his head back on course.

"Aye. Cliffs towering hundreds of miles. Some you can't hardly see the bottom." Fili chimed, winking over at Hayden.

"Like a dark, endless pit." Kili continued.

"There will be no cliffs." Hayden said flatly.

"How would you know? You've never been out of the Shire!" Bilbo exclaimed. "For all you or I know, there will be plenty of cliffs on this journey."

"Hold on," Kili started, holding up a finger, "you've never been out of the Shire?" He turned in the saddle, looking over his shoulder to look Hayden in the eye.

Hayden looked at him with an open mouth. "Well, I -" She glanced to Bilbo, avoiding Fili and Ori's gaze, who rode near their right. She had no doubt that the other dwarves behind them were listening in as well.

"Never mind that." Bilbo said in a high pitch. "I would rather like to live so if you'll just let me steer my pony in peace, it would be much appreciated."

Hayden cleared her throat. "Don't hold the reigns so tightly. Your hands will ache by the end of the day." Hayden said. "Keep your fingers loose, but keep a grip so you can tug if need be or grab if she picks up speed suddenly."

Bilbo flexed each hand, stretching his aching fingers after holding the reigns so tightly all day. He settled his grip back onto the rope with an exhale, feeling accomplished. With a nod, he swallowed in understanding. He could get the hang of this. He had no other choice.

"Are you all right over there, lass?" Balin called, noticing Hayden's lack of enthusiasm or conversational input. Though he couldn't see her perfectly in the firelight, he hadn't even noticed the girl enjoying the conversation.

Fili turned to look at her. She had a distant expression on her face as she looked up at the moon. Her eyes were somewhere else, seeing something only she knew up in the sky.

"Yes. I'm fine." Hayden answered after a moment. She blinked rapidly, turning her gaze to the fire.

The circle remained quiet, as though every one hung in wait for more of an explanation. She had been so quiet for the rest of the day, keeping to herself entirely except for enthusiastically listening to stories. After the matter of Bilbo's arrival she had grown more reserved. It seemed they had all noticed her change in mood since leaving the outskirts of Hobbiton, thinking her silence odd but keeping the matter to themselves. No one was quite used to having a woman in their Company on the road, not entirely accepting her presence due to its foreign nature. All except for Bilbo, that is.

"What's on your mind, then?" Bilbo asked, serious though casual in tone. He hadn't been himself all day either, but he didn't want to brush off the possibility Hayden was upset. The dwarves may not be cruel, but they obviously didn't care for her as he did. If something was causing his friend to retreat, he wanted to know why and what it was.

"It's nothing, Bilbo." Hayden said with a smile, glancing over at him before returning her gaze to the flames.

"Nothing is something in itself." Gandalf stated, puffing on his pipe.

Hayden whipped her head at the wizard, a look of disbelief on her face. She looked to the ground, shrugging and shaking her head with a smile; this was nothing important or worth talking about. "I just have some things on my mind." She said matter of factly. It wasn't like she had a secret to keep - she just wanted to go back to her own little world.

"Things such as?" Nori asked, rolling on his butt to sit up straight. With a pipe in his mouth, he crossed his legs, intent and eager to hear what Hayden had to say.

Hayden let out a heavy sigh, crossing her legs beneath her as well.

As if taking Hayden's hint, Thorin spoke up. "Leave her be. We all have our thoughts and the satisfaction of keeping them private." He looked at Hayden with a knowing gaze, smiling without moving his lips.

"I've just been thinking, that's all. There is nothing wrong, I promise." Hayden said, speaking directly to Bilbo, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Thinking about what?" Kili asked. He looked cautiously at Thorin, winking and turning back to Hayden as he squatted next to his brother, offering him tobacco out of a pouch.

"Kili." Thorin said quickly, warning him that he should not press the matter further.

Hayden rolled her eyes, her tongue poking at the inside of her cheek. Fine. She would give in. "It's just strange to me, sleeping underneath the stars."

"Why?" Kili asked loudly. He puffed on his pipe, attempting to get it going.

"Is it the threat of bears and other fowl things that crawl in the night?" Ori asked, looking over both of his shoulders with a worried brow.

"Are you a loud sleeper? We'll have to take turns waking you up, eh?" Gloin asked, as though he were oblivious to the fact that his own snoring was a rumor that preceded him wherever he went.

"No, Gloin, that'll be you." Dwalin commented, ducking under the swatting hand that flew his way.

The Company roared with laughter as Gloin continued to try and smack Dwalin, missing terribly every time. Either the darkness or the ale had clouded his judgement in distance, causing him to aim magnificently in the wrong direction.

Gloin had stood, beckoning for Dwalin to engage in a battle of fists. Dwalin had obliged, knowing the older dwarf was not in his best shape at the current moment; there was no real harm. They danced around the fire, chasing one another as the others cheered with laughter and cheeky comments.

"Are you more accustomed to the indoors?" Fili asked Hayden. He pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his hands around his knees. He felt a few pops in his lower back, releasing a tension he hadn't noticed was gathering.

"No, I always loved sleeping outside at home." Hayden said, shaking her head softly. She scooted back from the fire, out of Dwalin's shuffling footsteps.

"Then what troubles you?" Fili asked. He didn't want to pry the information out of her as Kili had so desperately tried to do, hoping she would willingly tell him what had been on her mind.

Gloin stumbled, falling back down to the ground on his bedroll. Dwalin bent over, laughing so hard he thought his lungs might give out. The circle laughed in unison, settling down as Dwalin resumed his place as well; Gloin just shook his head, chuckles coming out of him like hiccups.

Hayden let out a giggle, smiling to herself before turning to Fili. "It's just odd to me - these are not my skies." She hesitated, looking up to the sky again. "The stars I know are very different, their patterns and placement altered. These heavens seem to be blossoming with celestial light. It's a bit foreign to me." Hayden sighed, looking around at the sky that lay to the East. "I'm not used to all this light and in this magnitude. It's beautiful." She confessed.

Fili looked up as well, nodding in agreement as he recognized a few familiar patterns, discerning which direction was which off of stars he used to navigate. "I can't say I know what you mean. I suppose when I was young I would experience new skies now and again." He wondered if the night sky was new to her because she had come from another world; what else was different to her?

He glanced to Hayden, still gazing up into the night. The fire reflected off her body, moving in heated golden sparkles that seemed to dance across her face, highlighting her exposed neck as she peered upward. Fili had the brief though of kissing her neck, the soft skin warm and inviting underneath his lips. He pushed the thought away but not before letting his hand fall to the ground, inching closer than appropriate to hers.

"I have slept beneath these stars my entire life." Fili continued. Hayden looked to him, eyes glistening with sleep. "Yet with your presence, somehow they seem to shine with more intent, more adoration for the lands and living things they watch over along side the moon." Fili finished.

Hayden blushed immediately, though she hadn't truly taken to heart what the dwarf had said. Her mouth hung open, gasping for a response as the heartfelt words sunk in before smiling bashfully.

" _Is this how he talks to all women?_ " Hayden thought, staring at her feet. " _I can't believe he just said that to me. I'm not anything special._ "

She glanced around the circle, wondering if anyone had heard what Fili said. The others seemed to be either having their own conversations or lying down for the night. " _I wonder if he truly meant it, if he could admire me like that._ "

She looked back to Fili, who had resumed puffing on his pipe and gazing up at the stars himself. The green of his eyes seemed to explode in the fire's light, captivating Hayden instantaneously as her eyes moved over him.

He had removed his jacket, leaving his broad shoulders exposed underneath his tunic, prominent arms now hanging carelessly over each knee. A curl of gold poked out of his clasped hair, sticking out just above his right temple. His mouth was pulled into a tight line, Fili absentmindedly biting his lower lip in distant thought. In every meaning of the word, the dwarf was handsome.

Hayden noticed his stare was deep, as though he were searching for something. Suddenly realizing she hadn't said anything in response to his kind words, having let minutes pass without so much as a 'thank you,' she opened her mouth.

"Fili, I -" Hayden began.

"You should get some rest." Fili said immediately, letting out a swirl of smoke. "The sleep in your eyes is overgrown, like weeds in a garden long unattended." He added, his voice low and rumbling. He didn't look at her, instead focusing on the flames as he inhaled more tobacco.

Hayden looked at him quizzically. On one hand she wondered if he was being short due to her poor response to his flattery. On the other she couldn't help but wonder if he was aspiring to be a poet; she wasn't used to how prophetically these dwarves seemed to talk.

"I don't like to think of them as weeds but as wildflowers that grow in my garden." She said in response. She lifted her eyebrows, expecting the blond to give her some sly comment in response. He merely turned his head to look at her, his pipe hanging lamely out of his mouth in disinterest.

Hayden let out a rush of air through her nose, pursing her lips. She scooted down, moving so that she could properly lie down on her pack - her makeshift pillow. Somehow she was able to fall asleep almost instantaneously, barely having a moment to ponder over the sweet words Fili had spoken or how rudely she had received them.

Fili watched Hayden lie down, moving around on the warm Earth until her body found a comfortable position. Her breathing was fast at first, slowing rapidly as she succumbed to sleep. He turned back to the fire, nibbling on the end of his pipe. A smile spread across his face. " _Wildflowers_." He thought to himself, chuckling softly. " _That girl has a response to everything_."

"What are you smiling at over there, dear brother o' mine." Kili asked. He had opted for the first watch of the night, now leaning up against a tree a few feet from the circle.

"It is none of your concern." Fili responded, pointing his pipe at Kili before resuming his smoking.

Kili laughed loudly, eliciting a few shushes from the circle. Everyone had lain down, most of the dwarves already fast asleep while others stirred in their bedrolls. Bilbo still sat up with Fili, staring into the fire.

"Are you regretting this journey already?" Fili asked, offering his pipe to Bilbo.

Bilbo shook his head in refusal of the pipe, holding up a hand. "I'm not regretting anything. I'm just thinking."

"Not you, too." Kili said, sighing dramatically. "What was Hayden so lost in thought about, anyway?" He asked Fili.

Bilbo looked to Fili with anticipation, having seen her talking with him but missing what was said amidst Gloin and Dwalin's scuffle. "Yes, did she tell you?"

Fili let smoke trail out his nose, blinking as it rose into his eyes. "She was just admiring the stars. She said she's not used to them - they look different to her."

"Different?" Kili asked with a wrinkled nose. "How can the stars look different, they've been hanging up there for Mahal knows how long."

Fili shrugged, opening and closing his mouth with a lack of response. He had assumed Hayden's statement was additional proof that she was not from Middle-Earth, having grown and lived in another world that resided under different skies. Not having any explanation and knowing that his assumptions might seem a little too strange, he looked to Bilbo, hoping for a more concrete answer.

Bilbo looked back and forth between Fili and Kili, shrugging his shoulders as well. He knew Hayden had literally meant that the night sky was different to her because it was, in fact, different. Yet he also knew that he couldn't just tell the dwarves she was from another world - he didn't even know where that was. It wasn't his secret to share, and so he would keep it.

"I don't know. She hasn't gone outside at night much in her time with me. Perhaps she isn't used to seeing the stars like this, so open and vast." Bilbo said. He looked up himself, not being able to recall the last time he had truly star gazed.

"They sure are a pretty sight. Is that what you're thinking about, as well?" Bofur asked sleepily from his place in the circle. "The stars?"

"No." Bilbo answered, moving in his bedroll so that he could lie down as well. "I'm just -" He began, sitting back up to adjust his clothes. He unbuttoned his jacket, thinking it would help him to move around more in his sleep. "I think it's just that -" Bilbo began once more as he lied down, turning from side to side before sitting back up and taking his jacket off. He folded it quickly in his frustration, lying back down once more.

"It's just what?" Kili asked, finding humor in Bilbo's struggles but trying his best not to laugh.

"I can't help but notice that I -" Bilbo began in response, turning on his side to face Kili. He moved his arm wildly, struggling with his vest as it dug into his armpit. He sat up straight, tugging at it this way and that. "I believe I -" Bilbo let out a sigh, flopping his hands down on the ground, before deciding to unbutton and remove it entirely. "Give me a moment." He muttered, seeing to removing his vest.

Kili and Fili exchanged glances, eyes smiling at the hobbit's unrest. It wasn't that they were making fun of Bilbo, yet somehow they knew the hobbit wasn't used to sleeping outside or without a nightshirt. Camping was going to be an interesting adjustment for the little burglar, among many other things.

Bilbo folded his vest neatly, setting it down next to his pack. He took his suspenders off as well, rolling them up and placing them on top his jacket.

He lied down, finally, with a sigh. "I didn't think I would ever leave the Shire. This is the farthest I've ever been, I do believe."

"You've never been to Bree?" Fili asked, surprised. Bree was the closest town to the Shire at fifty miles, a fair share of trade and business occurring between the neighboring areas.

"Once or twice, perhaps." Bilbo answered, his eyes slowly closing. "Though I honestly can't remember when or why."

"Then you've still got a ways to go." Kili said. He sat down gently, though his boots shuffled loudly against the dirt. "We haven't yet reached Bree. We're about half way, I'd imagine. Maybe less since we got a late start this morning."

"Huh." Bilbo replied, letting his eyes close as the familiar feeling of rest washed over his body.

Without having to check, Fili and Kili knew that Bilbo had fallen fast asleep. They sat in silence, the fire crackling as the crickets chirped in the distance. Snores and whistles began to fill the air, a sleeping symphony having begun underneath the moon.

"I'm not far behind them." Fili said, glancing to Kili. "Will you be all right?"

Kili nodded, staring blankly into the fire. "I'll be fine until Dori relieves me. Don't worry."

"Goodnight, Kili." Fili said, nodding as he shifted his position on the hard Earth.

"Goodnight, Fi." Kili responded.

"Fi?" Fili asked, sitting up again. "You haven't called me by that name in a long time."

"I know." Kili said with a warm smile.

"What brought that about?" Fili asked as he leaned back on his elbows.

"I was just watching the fire and it reminded me of all those times we used to have fires of our own, going out after dark when Mother was asleep. Cooking anything and everything we could get our hands on just to watch it melt in the flames." Kili said. He watched the fire still, replaying memories in his head.

Fili nodded. "Aye. I remember those days. You used to melt ants and slugs on a stick and try to get me to lick them off for a silver coin."

"And do you remember the time you did it?!" Kili asked in a loud whisper.

Fili nodded enthusiastically, trying hard to hold in the laugh that had filled his belly. "That was the most disgusting, vile thing I have ever put in my mouth. I can't believe you talked me into that." His face cringed at the memory. "And I still never got that silver coin." Fili added, giving Kili a pointed stare.

"It's not my fault you didn't get the agreement in writing." Kili said with a sly grin. "You should have known better, being a diplomat. You missed the chance to claim your prize. By about sixty years."

"I'm charging you interest. The joke is on you." Fili said with a grin.

Kili rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. "Go to sleep."

"Give me my money." Fili retorted.

Kili reached into his pockets, pulling out the inside lining and showing Fili that they were empty. He looked around to a pine cone sitting near his knee. Reaching out, he grabbed it and chucked it at Fili's head.

Fili ducked just in time, giving his brother a daring yet playful stare. Kili just winked, settling back against the tree.

Fili laid back down with a smile on his face, his hands resting beneath his head. He let his head roll over towards Hayden, glancing at her sleeping frame. She had barely moved since lying down, becoming a prisoner in her tiredness. Even from down on the ground the girl was enchanting.

He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he closed his eyes. Fili hoped he hadn't made things worse by shutting off his emotions and cutting off Hayden before she could respond to his comments. In truth, her lack of response to his affectionate words stung like a deep cut, yet it served as a reminder that he should have held his tongue. Comments like that needed to be kept private and he knew he had the strength to refrain from saying such things.

He worried his detachment had been too sudden, displaying a reaction that would only make Hayden wary of him. He hadn't been trying to ignore her yet he knew he was feeling too much without having a reign on his actions. Whatever Hayden's response would have been to his words, he would never know. All he knew was that he had to stay true to his word, to his quest, to his people. He couldn't let Hayden become the distraction his family had said she would be.

"Fili, it's really happening." Kili whispered, unsure if his brother was still awake.

"I know." Fili replied sleepily.

" _We_ are going to the Lonely Mountain - to _Erebor_!" Kili said, as though he were convincing himself that he wasn't dreaming.

"I know." Fili said with a chuckle.

"We are going to reclaim our homeland. We will remind the world of the strength and honorability of the Durin bloodline." Kili continued in a giddy and valiant voice.

"Aye. I know." Fili said, a smile spreading across his face.

A few moments passed, Fili falling in and out of consciousness as he reveled in the thought of taking Erebor. Kili grew slightly solemn, staring into the fire with a hardened jaw. A tear rolled down his cheek, dripping off his chin.

"I wish our father were here to see it, to take back the mountain with his own sword, his own shield." Kili confessed. His voice wavered as he fought back the urge to cry.

Fili let his voice fall to a whisper, breathy and thick, as he opened his eyes. The stars were just as bright as they had been yet they seemed to dim somehow; one shot across the sky leaving a brief fiery trail.

"I know."


End file.
